


Group Therapy

by evannmkl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 136,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25835083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evannmkl/pseuds/evannmkl
Summary: What happens when the trio return to Hogwarts for their Eighth Year to find that McGonagall has hired a team of counselors to help the students address their trauma? Starts as Romione, HEA Dramione. Slow burn. EWE. M for language. Updates every other Monday.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 62
Kudos: 124





	1. At Least There Were Snacks

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Otherwise Dudley would have gotten his redemption arc.

* * *

** Group Therapy **

Summary

What happens when the trio return to Hogwarts after the war and McGonagall hires a team of counselors to help the students through their trauma?

Author's Note:

I often wonder while reading Harry Potter where the eff the school counselors were. My inspiration came for this story while waiting nervously in the waiting room of a new therapist's office. I wondered what it would be like to be the school counselor at Hogwarts. This story follows the lives of the Trio as they go through their Eighth Year of Hogwarts. I had originally intended that the story would heavily focus on the therapy sessions, but i really enjoy writing dialogue so it's sort of a background theme. Also, I'm not a counselor so I'm trying my best. If you have constructive criticism, please let me know.

Relationships/Things to Know

I used to be baffled that any sane person would ship Hermione with anyone other than Ron. Then I discovered fanfic. I now very much ship Draco and Hermione, but I think Ron is just lovely and I don't like to rag on him. I think he has a very specific role in Hermione's life and I think he is an honorable and wonderful character. This fic is HEA Dramione but starts of with some Romione plot points. It focuses more on Hermione and Draco, but I like to include perspective from Ron and Harry as well (plus a few other bonus perspectives as we move along).

Fluff/Tropes To Look Forward To

I love fluff. Please prepare yourself for cheesy tropes including: accidental romance, meddling mothers, school projects turning enemies into friends, falling in love in formal attire, and more

Other Notes

It's halfway written. I'm tweaking the chapters on the fall semester and plan to upload ever week or so.

Rating M just to be safe. It includes language and reference to torture, but nothing too explicit. I haven't decided if I'll include lemons later on.

* * *

** Chapter 1 – At Least There Were Snacks **

** Tuesday, September 2 **

**Group**

Mandy Dearborne waited in one chair in the large circle. 20 chairs, one for each Eighth Year student that had returned. She straightened her skirt and heard the bell ring.

Deep breath, she thought. You've run group therapy sessions in high security prisons. This can't be worse than that.

"…they're making us do this." A boy said in the hall.

"Well I don't think it's the worst thing. Certainly, we've been through a lot. I just hope they lighten up on the schedule for those of us that are better adjusted. Two hours a week. I'll need those hours for N.E.W.T. studying." A girl spoke quickly.

"Merlin can you give it a rest. It's 9 AM on the first day and you're already stressing about exams that are 10 months away."

"It's never too early to start thinking-"

"As long as they don't make us sit in some kind of prayer circle…" a second boy spoke up

The door banged open.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me." A boy stopped in his tracks upon seeing her. "Oh, sorry ma'am."

"It's quite alright. Please take a seat." She motioned to the chairs. The boy and his two friends sat down on the left a few seats away. They talked quietly among themselves. She knew who they were but was determined to act casual. The other students filed in and took their seats. Some of them looked apprehensive. Some looked annoyed. One or two looked politely curious. A raucous bunch stopped laughing as soon as they entered the room.

A girl groaned. "I shouldn't have come back."

Mandy smiled sweetly at the new group and motioned to the empty chairs. One of the girls already seated scooted down a few seats so that there was room for the group to sit together. A boy muttered his thanks.

Only two seats remained. A boy tripped through the door and everyone laughed.

"Merlin you'd think he'd have some swagger after last year." One of the raucous boys whispered loudly. His friend elbowed him in the ribs and gave him a stern look.

The final bell rang to signify the end of the break. The door opened one last time and the final boy slinked in. He assessed the room and upon seeing the only chair left he looked to the ceiling as though praying for strength. He quietly accepted his fate and settled in the chair between Mandy and the first girl who had walked in fussing about NEWTs.

At the entrance of the boy – or the final bell, she wasn't sure which – everyone fell silent. They looked at Mandy. She cleared her throat and began.

"Hello everyone! My name is Mandy Dearborne and I will be leading these group session as well as your individual sessions. As you already know, I'm one of the counselors that has been hired by the school to assist as you go through your final year here at Hogwarts."

She noticed some weary glances go around the group.

"I understand that you might be apprehensive as this is a novel experience for most of you. I assure you that you have nothing to worry about. You have all experienced a great deal and the headmistress rightly decided that all students would benefit from the opportunity to talk about their feelings and experiences. We will meet in this group each Wednesday and I will meet with you individually once a week. If you would like to meet with me more frequently, I will do my best to sort that out.

"My hope is that each of you will feel comfortable discussing your past traumas as well as any issues that come up throughout the school year. In this group we will discuss issues that affect the whole group as well as go through some stress management exercises. Everything you say to me in private is completely confidential unless I have a very great fear that you are a danger to yourself or someone else." She tried to make eye contact with everyone in the room throughout her speech.

"What if we don't want to be here Professor?" One of the boys piped up.

"Please, call me Mandy. I am no professor. I know that some of you would prefer not to engage in these sessions. Your attendance is required though your participation is not something I can enforce. Those of you who put effort into our sessions will find great benefit, but if you are determined not to participate. I will not force you. You may not, however, participate in other activities or studies during our sessions. If you choose not to participate you must sit quietly and refrain from disturbing the others."

There was some murmuring.

"Does anyone have any questions?"

"Why are you American?" one boy asked

"Because that's where I was born!" She winked at him and he looked taken aback. "Sorry, bad joke. The headmistress hired counselors exclusively from outside of Europe. There are a few of us from the States, a few from Canada, two from Australia, and one from Japan. But to answer your question, the idea was that counselors from outside of England might be more removed from the events of the past few years. Of course, I know much of what went on but I am not generally familiar with your names and backgrounds. The hope is that you might trust us more if you felt more anonymous."

"What makes you think we'd trust you at all?" One girl spat.

"Nothing." The girl looked surprised. "I don't expect any of you to trust me. I will have to earn that."

There was some murmured discussion about this.

"Well now that you know why I'm here, why don't you talk amongst yourselves. I'm sure you have quite a bit to catch up on. I will be over there," she pointed to the corner of the room where she'd set out lemonade and some cookies, "if you have any questions." She stood up and moved her chair over to the table and opened up the book she brought and began to read.

She noticed that the circle stayed very quiet. No one had seemed to expect that she would just let them chit chat for the better part of an hour. Slowly, the students turned to each other and began chatting quietly. She subtly observed them. After a few minutes a few of the students wandered over to check out the cookie situation. She smiled at them but did not force them into a conversation. A few students introduced themselves to her as they came over for refreshments. Most did not.

She noticed that most of the students chatted with those they had entered with. A few went over to see other students. Some definitely avoided each other. A few said very little at all.

After a while she checked her watch and brought her chair back over to the circle.

"Well our hour is almost up. You will typically not receive any official homework from these sessions. I will however pose a topic for you to consider before we meet again. Please consider gratitude over the next week." She handed out a sheet of paper to each student. "This sheet has some general information on gratitude and how it can keep stress at bay. Please think of something you are grateful for and come prepared to share that with the group."

The bell rang.

"Thank you everyone. I will see you next time." She smiled at them as they all picked up their bags and headed for the exit.

"—could've been a lot worse."

"—don't want to put up with this touchy feely shit."

"At least there were snacks!"

"—Only thing I'm grateful for is that we don't have homework."

"Americans are so hot."

"Do you think she'll have cookies each time?"

She smiled to herself. Overall, that went well, she thought.

* * *

** Thursday, September 3 **

**Ron**

Ron grumbled to himself as he made his way up to the third floor where Mandy's office was.

He rolled his eyes and knocked the door. Many opened it and motioned for him to enter. He plopped down on the sofa and crossed his arms.

"So, you must be Ronald Weasley."

"Ron."

"You prefer Ron?" Mandy asked politely.

"Yeah. Only Hermione and mum call me Ronald. Makes me feel like I'm in trouble." He muttered.

"Well, nice to meet you Ron." She held out her hand. He shook it tentatively. "How are you today?"

"Er. Fine. Thanks."

"Well would you like to tell me about yourself?"

"There's not much to tell."

"I'm sure that's not true.

He narrowed his eyes. What was she playing at? She said nothing more but just looked at him curiously. He remembered what she had said about not having to participate. Maybe he would just stare off into space for an hour. Yes, that was a good plan. It's not as though the last hour had been quiet. Hermione was droning on and on about Arithmancy. He had forgotten what it was like to hear her talk about something innocuous. But still, it was Arithmancy. He hadn't taken it for a reason.

He made it about 30 seconds before succumbing to the awkwardness of silence.

"Okay fine what do you want to know? I'm one of seven. Second youngest. Last boy. My sister is the year behind me. Everyone else has graduated. Bill works for Gringotts, Charlie is off gallivanting with dragons. Fr- George owns a joke shop. Percy still works at the Ministry."

"That was only five siblings." He narrowed his eyes. _This lady.._.

"Yeah so what?"

"Nothing. I'd love to hear more about sixth sibling one day." She said nonchalantly.

"Yeah, sure." He rolled his eyes.

"But you didn't really tell me anything about yourself."

"Well what do you want to know?" they were two minutes in and he was already impatient.

"How about we start with what you like to do outside of class."

"Uh, quidditch. I was Keeper last – I mean sixth year. I like the Chudley Cannons even though they are the sorriest excuse for a team I've ever heard. I'm pretty good at Wizard Chess. Harry and I play exploding snap a lot."

"I play chess too." She motioned to a board on the bookshelf. "Maybe next week you can bring your set and we can play a game."

He didn't really know what to make of that so he ignored it. It was quiet again. He decided awkward silence was the worst kind of talking.

"I know you skipped last year." He stiffened. "Would you like to talk about any of those experiences? Or the summer?" _Ah... The reason we're here._

"No."

"Alright that's fine.

Silence again. He picked at his fingernails. He scratched his head. He re-tied his shoe. He sighed. He looked around the room and, upon seeing a flag of light blue, narrowed his eyes.

"You support the Tornadoes?"

"Yes, I do."

"But you're American."

"I'm aware. My husband is British and they've always been his favorite team."

He muttered "bandwagon" under his breath.

"I'm not ashamed of it. I never liked quidditch until I met him. But his enthusiasm and team spirit was so infections I couldn't resist. I've been a fan ever since."

"Well I doubt you'll have much to cheer for this year since Levi is out." He said coldly raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, well I suppose not, but still a better chance than your Cannons." She raised an eyebrow back.

He scoffed but before Ron knew it, he and Mandy were in a friendly but heated discussion about Quidditch.

. . .

"—and that's exactly why that rule needs to be changed! It's just not fair!"

"Oh I agree. But it will never get approved." Mandy checked her watch. "Well, Mr. Weasley, our time is up for today."

"Really?" Ron was surprised.

"In fact we went over a bit. I won't have time to use the loo before my session with Ms. Patil. It was a pleasure to meet you Ron. I'll see you next week." She stood up and opened her office door.

"Er yeah. Thanks."

He stepped into the hall and saw Parvati pacing nervously.

"How was it?" She asked tentatively.

"Er, fine. We just talked about Quidditch."

"Hm. Okay well wish me luck." She stepped into Mandy's office and closed the door.

He trudged off to the Great Hall feeling like even though he had won almost each debate they'd had about Quidditch, Mandy had won somehow.

* * *

** Friday, September 4 **

**Draco**

"Please come in Mr. Malfoy." Mandy held out her hand and Draco shook it curtly. She motioned to the couch. Microfiber, he thought. He could already see the wrinkles from the 15 students who'd sat there before him.

He bypassed the couch and leaned against the wall next to the window that looked over the lake, trying to arrange himself in his best casually composed lean.

"How are you today?" She asked not bothering to turn her chair towards him.

He grunted but did not answer.

"How has your first week back been." He rolled his eyes and grunted again, less audibly this time.

"Would you like to tell me about yourself?"

He didn't even dignify that with a grunt.

She hummed softly but did not press him to answer. He heard her scratching in her notebook. He stole a glance at her. She was writing in an appointment book. He looked away as she set it back on her desk.

He focused on the lake again. What he would give for the squid to make an appearance.

But that was fine, he didn't need a distraction. He'd studied occlumency. Meditating for an hour was so easy a first year could do it. He studied the waves of the lake and let his mind focus on nothing at all.

. . . . .

"Well, Draco, that does it for today."

He straightened up and looked at her casually. She was sitting in almost the same position she had been the last time he looked at her. Had she just been sitting there for an hour? He wasn't sure what annoyed him more – that she could also meditate for an hour or how seemingly unbothered she was for just wasting an hour of her life.

He huffed.

"Well I'll see you next week. Have a pleasant afternoon."

He made no sound nor no acknowledgement of her as he flung the door open and darted to the side. He crashed into something – someone. A heavy bag fell to the floor and a large head of bushy brown hair bent down to pick it up.

"Watch where you're going Granger." He spat

"I was just standing here. _You_ watch where you're going." She had her hand on her hip and looked flustered.

"Whatever." He sidestepped her and stalked silently off to the Slytherin common room.

* * *

**Hermione**

Hermione waited patiently outside Mandy's office. She was nervous but didn't know why. It's not like she hadn't spent all summer begging Harry and Ron to talk about their feelings. She tapped her foot and checked her watch. She was 15 minutes early. It seemed very quiet in the room. She couldn't hear anyone talking. She wondered who was before her and how they were behaving. She'd heard mixed reviews from her various classmates. She looked around guiltily and pressed her ear to the door. She still couldn't hear anything. Either they were very quiet or Mandy had put a silencing charm on the door. She was just about to move back to the bench on the other side of the hall when the doorknob twitched.

She yelped and bounded to the side of the door as Draco Malfoy practically flew out of the room, turned the corner and ran straight into her. She stumbled backward and dropped her schoolbag. She picked it up and straightened her robes.

"Watch where you're going Granger." He spat

"I was just standing here. _You_ watch where you're going." She couldn't help the blush that crept into her cheeks. She would have been safely across the hall had she not tried to snoop.

"Whatever."

She rolled her eyes. At least Malfoy would always be Malfoy. The first week had proved that almost nothing was the same. At least there was that.

But he didn't need to run away. She shook her head. If anyone needed someone to talk to it was probably his sorry ass.

She knocked on the door. "I'm Hermione Granger. I'm a bit early. Do you want me to wait outside until 3?"

"No, Ms. Granger, please come in." Mandy welcomed her in with a smile and motioned to the couch. She sat.

Hemione knew about therapists' offices. She'd had to see one the summer after Second Year. Her parents wanted her to talk to someone about the petrification incident. Obviously it wasn't particularly productive since the therapist was a muggle and she couldn't really get into specifics. Between that and TV, she felt like she had a decent idea of what to expect. They always had a couch and usually two chairs. One for the therapist, leaving the patient to choose where he or she was most comfortable. The decorations and colors in the office were usually soothing and neutral. She sniffed. Lavender. A mini zen garden on the coffee table. _How original._ A large bookcase jam packed with muggle and magical books alike from the looks of it. Mandy's desk was neat. A clock on the wall that had been silenced so as not to tick.

"How are you today?" Mandy sat in the chair across from her.

"Oh I'm fine thank you. How are you?"

"Very well, thank you for asking." She smiled at Hermione. "Would you like to tell me about yourself?"

"Oh, I mean I guess I can. I assumed... I didn't know how much you already knew."

"I would be lying if I did not know who you were or the extraordinary things you've done. However I prefer to allow people to introduce themselves to me on their own terms."

"Oh, well. Then I'm Hermione." She did a simple waving motion with her hand. _What is wrong with you?_ "I'm muggle born. I was ever so excited when Professor McGonagall came to my house and told me that I was a witch. I, of course, had never considered it but it did explain many things. I couldn't wait to come to Hogwarts afterwards. When I got here it was amazing and a thousand times better than I expect. I was so engrossed in my studies that I barely had time at all for making friends at the beginning. Eventually I found Ron and Harry and we've been inseparable ever since. They are so difficult sometimes but I wouldn't trade them for the world. I'm an only child. So it's just my parents – it's just me." She took a long breath and started again.

"Let's see. My favorite book is Les Mis and I have seen it live three times, once in Paris with my parents. My birthday is in a couple weeks. My favorite class is Arithmancy. I don't think very many people understand why but it's just fascinating. I think everyone assumes I'm going to into the Ministry after this year but I just don't know. I have rarely approved of what they do and even now I don't know that they're handling things very well. I mean, it's bureaucracy. It's the same everywhere. Just look at your congress. I think I might be able to make more of a difference if I did charity work. But of course, where would I get the money for that? Which brings me back to a Ministry job. I mean obviously it would be fairly straightforward to get a job there. They already offered one to several of us that came back for eighth year. I could always work for a few years and make some connections and then try to get out on my own. But I don't know, it just seems so… slow. I want to make change now! She took another long breath. "So people assume I'm either going to go straight to the Ministry or become a healer." She made a face.

"You don't want to be a healer?"

"I think people just assume I'd want to be a healer because there's so much more schooling required. But I think I've had enough blood for a whole lifetime."

"Hm. That's certainly true."

"Well is there anything else you want to know?"

"Is there anything else you think is important?"

Hermione considered this. "I think this is a really smart thing Professor McGonagall did. I mean, it's not like Hogwarts has been the most forward place and clearly all of us bottling up our emotions hasn't done a lot of good. I know a lot of students feel weird talking about the war, but we've all suffered and I think we'll tear each other apart if we don't address the issues. Plus it's nice to have someone as a third party to talk to. I never really felt like the other girls in my dorm understood me. They were always going on about makeup and boys. I always too busy making sure… Anyway, I'm not much of a girly girl. But having two boys as your best friends doesn't exactly leave a lot of room for long chats about feelings if you know what I mean. So anyway, I think it's good. I know that people are pretty unhappy about it and I hope that they haven't been giving you too hard a time."

"Well thank you. It's been fine. It's nothing I'm not trained for. I just want everyone to know that I'm here. If there comes a point where someone needs me, I'll be right here."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say next.

"Well is there anything you'd like to talk about? I have to admit I'm grateful that you're open to the idea."

Hermione was taken aback. "Oh, well I didn't mean that _I_ necessary needed help. I mean I've been talking plenty to Luna and Ginny and I'm not a fool. There are good days and bad days. I'm sure it'll be hard as we go through the year, but for now I'm just happy to be here. I just meant that I'm happy people like Ron and Harry will have someone to talk to. Since they won't talk to me."

"I see. And why do you think they won't talk to you?"

"Oh I don't know. That's how they've always been. Harry is better than Ron. I've said it before, he has the emotional range of a teaspoon. And he lost his brother which I know is hurting him more than he's letting on. And Harry thinks that I don't know that Kreacher sneaks him Butterbeer and Firewhiskey every week. It's just… I worry about him. Harry has Ginny. It isn't perfect but Ginny understands Harry in a way that I don't think Ron or even I do. Maybe it's something to do with everything she went through second year. But Ron… I just see him going through the motions and everything's always been so wonderful for him and I just worry. I just feel like I should be able to... I just worry."

"And why do you feel like it is your responsibility to worry about him?"

"Well isn't that what friends do?"

"I suppose so." Mandy adjusted in her seat but didn't expand.

"I mean I wish he would talk to me. I mean were so close Fifth Year because neither of us really understood what was going on with Harry. I really thought then… Anyway then Sixth Year happened. But we got close again the summer before we left with Harry. But really we were both just avoiding reality. And then during the battle. Anyway. I just thought things would be different."

"What happened Sixth Year?"

"I mean I thought we would… After Fifth Year. But then there was all that stupid business with L— Oh gosh. We don't need to… I mean it's ancient history at this point. And I wouldn't want to... I just." She sighed. She knew she was sputtering. She had expected that they would get together Sixth Year. They'd shared plenty of moments Fifth Year and at the Burrow last summer before Harry had turned up. But the memory of Lavender's death was too fresh. She had never been close to the girl and had said her fair share of rotten things about her but she was a sweet girl. And it was so hard to see Parvati suffering so. Parvati had only come back because Padma begged her to. Padma had wanted to come back for her N.E.W.T.s so she could be a healer. Parvati didn't want to come back to the castle without Lavender. But she'd done it as a favor to her sister. Hermione pretended not to notice that Parvati had slept on the couch in the Common Room each night instead of in her bed up in their Eighth Year dorm. She knew Parvati couldn't handle sleeping in their dorm with only two beds. Without the stack of magazines between she and Lavender's bed. Without Hermione complaining about them gossiping too loudly and begrudgingly casting a silencing charm over her bed when they refused to go to sleep. Even Hermione missed Lavender's incessant suggestions about her hair and makeup. Lavender had always managed to compliment her even when she was barraging Hermione with suggestions on how she couldn't possibly drive boys further away. She was always sweet in her own way. Even after everything Sixth Year, Lavender had been one of the first to hug Hermione when they showed up in the Room of Requirement. She'd never forget the way she looked… Pale, covered in blood… Hermione felt a burn in her throat and stuffed it down.

"Hermione?"

She registered Mandy speaking to her through the haze of her thoughts.

"Hm?"

"I asked if you and Ron are romantically involved?"

Hermione sighed. Wouldn't she like to know the answer to that too?

Her mind flitted off to the night after the battle. Gryffindor Tower had been destroyed so they couldn't sleep there. Harry had gone off with Ginny and it had been hours. The Hufflepuff dorms had been relatively untouched and Hannah Abbott invited them all to stay there. They'd chosen the Second Year boys' dorm. After all those archaic wards on the girls' dorms were still in place. Ron stroked her hair until she fell asleep. She woke up in his arms. When he finally woke up they just looked into each other's eyes for a minute or an hour. They'd shared a long tender kiss before heading down to the Great Hall to face the grief of the day before. Everything had changed again. It seemed like Ron had allowed himself 12 hours of blissful amnesia down in the Hufflepuff dorms. But the second he was reunited with his family he was overcome with grief and anger and caretaking. She couldn't blame him but they never got back to where they were. They stayed at Grimmauld place with Harry and Ginny but in separate rooms. Sometimes Ron would slip into bed with her in the middle of the night. But he'd always be gone by daybreak. She only knew because of her blissful dreamless sleep and the smell of his shampoo on his pillow. They never talked about it and they hadn't kissed again. She thought it might be better at Hogwarts because he had more people around and things to distract him. But it only seemed to make things worse. He laughed with Harry and Neville in the Common Room and sometimes held her hand when no one was watching. But he refused to meet her eyes, let alone talk about anything. His bright blue eyes were sad most of the time unless he was talking about Quidditch. She thought sadly of the "Quidditch for Dummies" book hidden in her dresser. She'd been reading up on the subject since it was the only thing that made him happy. If he wouldn't talk to her about anything else, she'd at least talk to him about Quidditch. She hadn't realized how much she relied on the twinkling behind his eyes until it was gone.

"No," she finally answered. "No, we're not.

"Well it certainly sounds like you care for him a great deal. He's lucky to have a friend like you."

The burning in Hermione's throat was back. She gulped it down but it wasn't going away. She looked at the wall above Mandy willing the impending tears to go away. She noticed the clock.

"It's fifteen till," she said to Mandy

"We still have a few minutes."

"Well I started fifteen minutes early. I'm sure you need a break. You didn't have one after Malfoy. I'll just leave you to it." She got up and slung her bag over her shoulder.

"Alright dear well my door is always open, metaphorically at least. Just ring the buzzer if you ever want to talk. Day or night."

Hermione was already at the door. She put on her best Gryffindor smile and turned back to Mandy "It was just lovely to chat. I'll see you on Wednesday."

"Thank you, Hermione. I so enjoyed getting to know you."

Hermione practically ran down the corridor and barely made it into an abandoned classroom before sinking to the ground in silent, body shaking sobs.

No wonder Malfoy had been so desperate to get away from there, she thought bitterly to herself.

Sometime later she recognized that Luna had joined her. Luna didn't say anything but stroked her hair and hummed a tune Hermione wasn't familiar with. After she finally stilled, Luna wiped her eyes and used her wand to apply a glamor spell to her face to hide her swollen and red eyes. Then she jabbered on about some nonsense and led Hermione by the hand to the Great Hall for dinner. Luna sat with the Gryffindors that night. No one asked any questions. Hermione never asked Luna how she'd found her.

* * *

** Author's Note: **

Thank you for reading! :)


	2. Madam Pomfrey? Meet Wall.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Otherwise Harry would have never snapped the Elder Wand.

* * *

** Chapter 2 – Madam Pomfrey? Meet Wall. **

** Monday, September 7 **

**Harry**

Harry had been silently watching all of his classmates over the past week. He was one of the last Gryffindors to have his first chat with Mandy. They didn't really talk about Mandy or the other counselors or what was said in the individual sessions. The reactions had been varied. People like Neville, Luna, and Parvati seemed to be in better spirits the night of their sessions. Ron had seemed indifferent but he was quieter than normal. Ginny hadn't had hers yet. Hers was on Monday like Harry. Though she saw some Australian bloke who had a bit too much confidence for Harry's taste. Hermione had been a basket case the entire evening after hers. Harry knew he should have said something. Offered to talk. Sat with her at least. But he didn't think he could handle helping her through whatever it was that she was suffering with. He felt terribly guilty but he just didn't think he could do it without descending into madness himself. But in typical Hermione fashion she'd gone to bed early and was back to normal the next morning, nagging him about his study schedule and wondering if he was really still going to be Quidditch captain with NEWTs coming up at the end of the year. He'd rolled his eyes and told her she didn't need to worry about him. She ruffled his hair and opened her mouth like she was going to say something but decided not to.

Ginny seemed like she was doing alright. She spent most of her time with Luna or himself. He knew she was sad but they'd reached an understanding that they wouldn't force each other to talk until they were ready. They'd come up with an unofficial signal. If she held his pinky they'd go find space to talk or just be quiet together. They took a lot of walks around the grounds. He found himself thinking of the walks they took at the end of Sixth Year. Those had been full of tenderness and snogging and happiness. These walks rarely ended with kisses which was fine with both of them. They just held hands and talked (or didn't). But he wouldn't trade them for anything. If there was anything he'd learned, it was that intimacy was more than the absence of clothing.

He was worried about Ron but he'd have sooner tried waltzing with a Blast Ended Skrewt than try to force him to talk. Hermione had given up trying to get Ron to open up about a month ago. She was still working on Harry. Harry knew Ron was struggling. He knew he was drinking a lot. Harry had lost so many people but none of them had been his brother. He didn't try to understand. If he'd been honest with himself, he'd been preparing for this since he was 14. Somewhere deep down he knew that some if not most of the people he loved would be taken from him by Voldemort and his followers. It wasn't a matter of if, it was a matter of when and how many. It didn't make it easier, but it did make it less shocking. Ron wasn't prepared. He remembered watching Ron listen to the radio while they were hunting Horcruxes. Ron had waited breathlessly but Harry didn't think Ron had ever really believed deep down that his entire family wouldn't make it out unscathed. For the time being Ron was still shoveling food into his mouth like a bulldozer, still kicking his ass at chess, still talking about Quidditch, still playfully mouthing off at Hermione for nagging them about NEWTs in the _first week_ of the school year. Of course, that didn't mean he was okay, but who among them was? The best he could do, he reasoned, was stay close make sure Ron knew he didn't have to pretend to be feeling anything he didn't. Ron would find his way. He was resilient like that.

What worried him more was the way it seemed Hermione deflated when she saw Ron. Hermione didn't seem to have the stomach for his grief the way Harry did. Though, he supposed if Ginny was suffering in the same way it would kill him little by little too. He didn't know what was going on with them. He'd been so exasperated when they'd kissed outside the Room of Requirement but a part of him was thrilled. He thought they were perfect for each other. Hannah had told him they'd spent the night in Hufflepuff after the battle. He'd just assumed they'd be together after that, but they weren't. He didn't dare ask. He just hoped they'd figure it out eventually.

He slowly made his way to Mandy's office corridor. A door on the left opened and one of the Slytherins from their year stepped out.

"Potter," he nodded at Harry.

"Nott," he nodded back.

"Your turn to get your head shrunk?" Nott stopped about six feet from him.

"'S'pose so. Everyone else seems to have survived."

"True. She's not bad. Too nice though."

"Thanks for the warning I guess."

"See you." Nott nodded and headed down the hallway.

It occurred to Harry that he couldn't remember ever speaking directly to Theodore Nott. He seemed decent enough. Definitely always got good marks. His father had been a Death Eater but other than laughing at Malfoy's jokes, he couldn't remember Nott doing anything particularly heinous to him or his friends.

He was early. Fifteen minutes was too early. He decided he needed to use the loo. When he got back he rapped on the door.

Mandy opened the door and welcomed him inside.

"Mr. Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you." She held out her hand and he shook it.

"You too." He sat on the couch.

"So why don't you tell me about yourself."

Harry laughed. It wasn't a real laugh but the statement was funny enough. "You don't need to pretend you don't know who I am."

"Oh, I'm not. But I would rather you tell me about yourself. I never took much stock in tabloids anyway."

He eyed her suspiciously.

"I assure you, Harry, I only care about what you have to say, not what anyone else has speculated about you. I'll never ask about anything I know about the war or your life unless you 've brought it up first. You're in charge here. Plus, I've met Rita Skeeter and I thought she was horrid."

"Well. I'm Harry… Just Harry.1" He shrugged, not sure what to say.

Her eyes brightened mischievously. "Well, 'Just Harry,' is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

He thought about Ron and Hermione and their silent struggles. He thought about Ginny and the magnitude of his feelings for her and how much it scared him but made him feel alive at the same time. He thought about Sirius. He thought about Snape and Dumbledore and the sacrifices they'd made. He thought about Kingsley and the Auror offer he'd made him and Ron and how Hermione had sobbed almost incomprehensibly on the kitchen floor of Grimmauld Place and begged them to come back to Hogwarts with her, at least just until Christmas. He thought about the unopened letters he had in Gryffindor tower from Dudley. He thought about Kreacher who visited him each evening. He thought about Lupin and Tonks and how fake they looked laying on the floor of the Great Hall. He thought about the owl from Andromeda asking him if he'd like to set up a regular schedule to come and see Teddy. He thought about the massive box of joke products George had sent him last night "just because." He thought about the blank stare Malfoy had these days and how it was somehow worse than it had been that day in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He thought about how nice it had been to fly around the Quidditch pitch with Ron and Ginny over the weekend. He thought about how tired he was.

"The weather maybe?" He raised an eyebrow at Mandy.

She laughed and he had the odd sensation she had heard all his thoughts.

"The weather has been quite exceptional this week. I have to admit I was nervous, coming from California. You hear about the unpredictable climate of the Scottish Highlands."

They struck up a casual but friendly banter over the weather and other small talk subjects. The hour passed by quick enough and he was on his way. When he left her office Pansy Parkinson was sitting on the bench across from the door determinedly looking anywhere but at Harry.

His memory brought up an image of her smirking and handing Hermione a copy of the Prophet in fourth year. It also brought up an image of her screaming for them to turn him in to Voldemort. Finally, he flashed on the image of her being comforted by the Greengrass sisters after the battle. She looked devastated, kneeling next to a still figure he learned later was her father. He sighed. It was going to be a long year.

* * *

** Wednesday, September 9 **

**Group**

"Good morning everyone!" Mandy looked around at her Eighth Years brightly. She was pretty sure she knew all of their names now that they'd all had their individual sessions. "How are you today?"

There was some polite murmuring. Those students that had participated in their individual sessions were smiling at her or at the very least not looking hostile. The others grumbled and avoided eye contact.

"Well does anyone have any thoughts on our topic of gratitude?" No one spoke. "Well why don't we go around the room and say something that we're grateful for today. I'll start. I'm especially thankful for the warm weather today after yesterday's storm. Neville would you like to go next?" She looked at Neville who was seated next to her.

He looked taken aback but considered the prompt. "Uh... Chocolate Frogs?"

"Very good. Next?" She looked at Dean next to him.

"Butterbeer."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Hey you took mine! Fine I'll go with... Firewhiskey."

Hermione huffed next to him. "Well I'm thankful for the opportunity to come back and finish our schooling."

"Quidditch," said Harry.

"Hangover Potions." Most of the room roared at Seamus' answer.

Parvati was next but she didn't seem to want to answer. She looked at the ground and shuffled her feet. Padma grabbed her hand and said, "We're grateful for each other."

The room's atmosphere turned more somber.

They kept going around the room. Some people said sillier things and some said more serious things like family and friends. When Hannah answered "my life," the room turned even more serious. Susan wouldn't answer after that and neither would Draco or Pansy when they got to the Slytherin group.

"Well thank you, everyone for sharing. Would anyone like to say anything about their weekend or the first week of term?" Mandy asked the group.

* * *

**Draco**

_Fucking kill me._

She wanted them to talk about their first week back. Sure. He wondered if she'd rather hear about the letter from his father from Azkaban encouraging to keep his head up and remember his Malfoy pride or listening to McGonagall's choked speech to them during the opening feast. Or perhaps she'd like to know how he'd been sleeping on the floor of Snape's old office instead of facing the other boys in his dorm. He decided that that, in fact, was exactly what she'd like to hear him admit. _In her dreams_.

Terry Boot was complaining about how McGonagall didn't make any of the Eighth Years Head Boy or Girl. "

To say that Draco didn't want to be here was an understatement. He didn't want to be in this stupid chair in this stupid room with this stupid woman, sitting next to these insufferable Hufflepuffs. He didn't even want to be in this school but that wasn't really up to him.

The Wizengamot had ordered him to return to school as a condition of his probation. He'd considered Beauxbatons but he stayed in England for his mother.

It could have been worse, he thought. Most of the Slytherins avoided him, especially the younger ones. That was just fine. It's not like he would have been elected First Year Ambassador anyway. He'd always been a little pompous for Draco's taste anyway. He, Pansy, and Theo spent most of their time together. They didn't do a lot of talking but that was fine. They were the only other students who had had close relationships with Death Eaters.

Seamus was going on about Quidditch trials and wondering who would be the commentator this year. Apparently, he'd written McGonagall a month ago asking if he could be the new commentator but still hadn't heard anything from her.

A month ago, _he'd_ been in Azkaban.

Some of the younger students from other houses had tried to be openly hostile but he wasn't really around enough for it to bother him. He'd expected it anyway.

Padma discussed the NEWT Ancient Runes study group she'd formed. Granger practically quivered with excitement before begging to join.

The rest of the Eighth Years pretty much avoided him which was more than he could have hoped for. HE didn't know if they hated him or just preferred not to think about him.

Mandy was thanking them in a sweetly sickening voice for sharing and droning on about gratitude journals. She was encouraging them to make a list of something they were thankful for over the next month. Right. He rolled his eyes. He'd get right on that.

Ernie nudged his arm with a basket full of pieces of paper. He took one. 12. He must not have been paying attention to what he was supposed to be doing with the numbers. He passed it on to Pansy. Hers said 8.

"Alright, everyone. Pair up and start on your interview. You'll have time to finish next week before we do the presentations." Mandy was too cheerful. He didn't like the sound of whatever this was. Mandy handed him a piece of paper that he ignored.

He noticed his classmates getting up and comparing numbers. He stood up leaned against the wall and listened for anyone saying the number 12. Mandy was encouraging them to go up to as many people as possible and ask what their number was. Apparently, this was a nice way to feel comfortable interacting with others. He'd prefer to just disolve into the wall.

"I think we're the only ones left." He groaned internally. Of fucking course. "12 right?"

Granger was dragging two chairs over to his spot on the wall and rustling in her bag for a pen.

She took her time getting set up. He recognized that she was looking at him expectantly. He continued to ignore her. Finally she sighed and said, "So. Ice cream?"

"What?" he nearly choked

"The questionnaire." she said meekly. Who was this version of Granger?

He looked at the paper. "What are we supposed to do with it?"

She rolled her eyes and scolded him. "Were you not even paying attention?" There she was. "We interview each other and then we'll introduce each other to the group next week."

He stared at her. She looked nearly as thrilled as he did. "But we've all known each other since we were 11." he said impatiently.

"Yes, well apparently it's to help us get to know each other on a deeper level. You know, dispelling preconceived notions and starting fresh. " She looked about as convinced as he felt.

"Hmph." He watched as she twirled a curl around her pen. "Strawberry."

"What?"

"Strawberry. My preferred flavor of ice cream." He sank into the other chair she'd brought and took out a quill.

"Oh. Sorry, it's not what I expected." she took a hasty breath. "Mine's pistachio."

_What did she expect? It's not like Florean carried a flavor called "The Blood of Orphans." It's fucking ice cream._

"The last book you read?"

"Knots and Knives."

"Oh really? I've been meaning to pick that one up. I've heard it's quite good. It's supposed to be more suspense and less horror. His last one gave me nightmares." She began blabbering about the vast amount of books she'd managed to read over the summer. He heard her mention _Hogwarts: A History_ and something about considering owling the publisher to find out if anyone planned to update it. Apparently it hadn't been updated in almost a century. "...and after all the school _has_ been at the center of several... er... _important_ historical events in the past fifty years." The understatement of the century, he thought snidely.

He absentmindedly wrote down _Hogwarts: A History_ though since he wasn't listening he wasn't sure if that was actually the last thing she read. It was a good bet. She was always talking about that sodding book.

He looked down the rest of the list.

Last vacation. _Does Azkaban count?_

"Paris. Before Fifth Year started." _Mother's idea of a last hurrah before the Dark Lord started crashing in the East Wing._

She blushed. "Bulgaria. Also before Fifth Year."

Would you rather be invisible or be able to fly? _The Dark Lord could fly. That seemed to work out pretty well for him._

"Invisibility."

"Flight."

What do you want to do after Hogwarts? _Drink myself into oblivion._

"I don't know."

"Me either." She sighed.

"Maybe travel. Get away for a bit," he offered quietly.

"Hm. That would be nice."

Celebrity crush. _Oh Merlin what fresh hell is this?_

"I'm not answering that."

She blushed again. "Uh, maybe we just can just skip that one."

"So I shouldn't write down Gilderoy Lockhart?" He had no idea what made him say it. She sputtered and he decided to take pity on her. "Okay, so skipping that one."

He looked around the room. Most of the pairs seemed to be having fun with this. It baffled him. Blaise made a crude gesture at his chest signifying breasts. Michael Corner doubled up with laughter and nodded enthusiastically. I wonder what question they could be on, he thought sarcastically. He remembered listening to Blaise and Theo and some of the younger Slytherins ranking all of the girls at Hogwarts at the end of Fifth Year. He'd thought it was a bit juvenile and chauvinistic but it was entertaining all the same.

"What's something the other person wouldn't already know about you?" She brought him back to the present. _Well... My father backhanded me for splashing vomit on the 18th Century chaise lounge in the drawing room while I was watching Aunt Bella torture you._

"Well I've always wanted to visit Australia. It seems like a nice place. Maybe spend a few months there exploring and meeting the locals."

Her face hardened and she narrowed her eyes at him and angrily whispered, "And here I was thinking that maybe, _just maybe,_ the experiences of the last two years might have humbled you. But no. You're the same horrid boy you've always been. Fuck you Malfoy."

Before he could even process what she had said she had flung her bag over her shoulder and ran out the room, closely followed by Weasley. Potter shot him a withering look.

Theo gave him a "really, man?" look and turned back to Susan Bones to finish their questionnaire.

Mandy approached him slowly. "What happened Draco?"

"Hell if I know."

"Alright well maybe—" The bell rang. She sighed. "Alright that's it for today. If you didn't finish we'll have a few minutes next week so you can pick up where you left off."

He put the questionnaire and his quill back in his bag and headed off to Charms. Granger and Weasley were already there. Her eyes were red but she stared resolutely at the front of the classroom with her arms crossed. Weasley shot Draco a positively murderous stare when he walked in.

Draco furrowed his brow. He'd spent six years deliberately tormenting the Golden Trio. At least for once he could honestly claim ignorance.

* * *

**Ron**

Ron glared at Malfoy through the entire Charms lesson. Flitwick deducted five points the third time he had to ask for a question to be repeated.

It was true that Malfoy wasn't his usual smug self this year. He didn't want to admit it but he suspected Malfoy had had a pretty shit year too. Not that he didn't bring it on himself, but still. Living with Voldemort couldn't have been a piece of cake.

Harry had spoken at Malfoy's trial and convinced Hermione to do the same. Ron hadn't spoken to him for a week. Harry claimed that he was lowering his wand that night on the Astronomy Tower. And Harry and Hermione were both convinced that Malfoy recognized them at the Manor and "refused" to identify them and that this showed some kind of moral fiber. Ron thought this was stretching it a bit. It was one thing for Harry, Patron Saint of Forgiveness, to feel like he needed to help the slimeball avoid a lifetime in Azkaban. But it had been hard enough for Hermione to testify during the 10 plus other trials they'd had to endure. Was it really necessary to have her stand up for someone who hated her? Ron had only attended to support Hermione. He had had to admit that Malfoy did seem genuinely repentant for his actions. He was still an asshole, but he'd refrained from any torment in the first week. Ron had _maybe_ started to "drink the Felix", as his mum would say. Maybe Malfoy really had changed for the better. Right. Clearly not.

Hermione refused to say what he'd said to upset her during Group. She had just cried quietly into his shoulder and then apologized for mussing up his shirt before running off to the loo for a paper towel to dry it.

He shook his head at her disappearing figure. _Brightest witch of our age and she forgets that there's a bloody drying spell._

Was it too much that everyone just leave her the fuck alone? She'd done enough and been through enough. Even now she was still holding them together silently. He knew he should make more of an effort but he knew she wanted him to talk about his feelings and he just wasn't ready for that.

Bill was busy with the baby. Charlie was working overtime for the Ministry rounding up creatures that had been illegally traded or taken advantage of or hadn't been monitored correctly during the Death Eater's regime at the Ministry. Percy was also busy in the recruitment department for the Ministry. In the little spare time he had he helped out for George by rebuilding the shop. As far as Ron knew, George hadn't been back there. He'd rented a room at the Leaky Cauldron and they had rarely seen him over the summer. Ginny was managing. She and Harry were doing their own thing and seemed to be muddling through together.

He spent all of his energy forcing himself not to run away and join Charlie. Kingsley had offered he and Harry the Auror jobs. Harry was ready to take it. Ron still wanted to be an Auror but wanted a break first. He'd already told Charlie he'd help before that night at Grimmauld Place when Hermione had begged them on her knees to return to Hogwarts with her. "Just for the good of their education," she'd reasoned through desperate sobs. They knew better. They'd shared a silent agreement and promised to come back for at least one semester. He knew Harry was planning on leaving after Christmas break to take up Kingsley on his offer. Ron thought he'd stay for now. At least the food was good.

He knew he should talk to her. They had never talked about where they stood. But it just seemed so exhausting. She hadn't brought it up and seemed fine with their murky arrangement. Nothing seemed nicer than the thought of being together but it was easier to just stick with the status quo for now. If you talked about one feeling, you had to talk about them all, he assumed. He didn't want to talk about Fred or Lavender or Tonks or anyone. He just wanted to ace his Quidditch trial and keep kicking Harry's ass at chess.

"Hermione, what happened in there?" Harry asked her as they made their way to lunch.

"Oh, it's nothing." She waved him off

"No, it's not. What did he say to you? He didn't call you a you know what did he?"

"No. Really, It's fine Harry."

"I won't quit until you tell me. If he's violating the terms of his probation the Ministry needs to know."

She sighed exasperatedly.

"He made a dig about my parents." she admitted quietly staring at her shoes.

"WHAT?!" Harry and Ron both shouted. Ron turned around, half a mind to hit him but Malfoy had already disappeared down the corridor towards the dungeons.

"Tell me exactly what he said." Harry told her sternly, pulling her to the side.

"He told me he'd always wanted to visit Australia. That after Hogwarts he thought he might spend some time 'exploring and meeting the locals.'" She choked out, using air quotes.

"That bastard. He'd better not be at lunch. I'll wring his—"

"You'll do no such thing Ronald." She sniffed loudly. "I'm already so embarrassed that I lost my cool. Now he knows how affected I was by it."

"Of course you were upset, Hermione." Harry said holding her shoulders. "Do you want me to send a note to Kinsley?"

"NO!" She looked horrified, "No. I just want to forget it happened. He's vile and I just had forgotten. I don't know why I thought... Please let it go. It's fine, really. Promise me you'll let it go Harry."

"Yeah, sure." Ron was surprised Hermione didn't seem to know Harry was lying though his teeth. "I'll meet you later. I have to... Get something from my room."

"I'll come with you, Harry! I... need a new quill."

"No." He shot Ron a stern look. " _I'll get one for you_." He turned on his heel and headed off in the direction of the dungeons. It was clear that whatever Harry was going to do, he wanted to do it on his own. Ron tried not to feel hurt that Harry didn't want him to come.

Hermione grabbed his hand and led him towards the Great Hall. "Come on, we'll save him a seat."

* * *

**Harry**

Harry was fuming. He couldn't believe that after everything Malfoy was really stooping so low. Malfoy had been at his own trial too. Surely even his sorry ass could have seen how upsetting it was for her to recount her experience at the Manor in front of the Wizengamot.

He saw a miniature Slytherin disappearing through the stretch of wall that he knew led to the Slytherin Common Room. "Oi! You there!" The boy looked up at Harry terrified, one foot through the passageway. "I know Malfoy is in there. You tell him to get his ass out here right now. Tell him I know what he did and if he's not out here in two minutes I'm headed straight up to McGonagall's office. You know who I am right? GO!" She shouted and the boy scrambled through the passageway and Harry paced in the corridor, his anger mounting every second.

"You summoned me, Potter?"

"YEAH WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? YOU COULDN'T JUST LEAVE HER ALONE? HAVEN'T YOU DONE ENOUGH ALL THESE YEARS?"

"Woah, I don't know what you're on about."

Harry wheeled around and swung his fist at Malfoy who ducked and stepped back. Harry pointed his wand at Malfoy's chest. "I don't know if you were threatening her or just being cruel, but either way you have been warned. If you even think about doing anything else to her I will bury you." Harry seethed, his chest rising and falling very fast.

"Potter. Please lower your wand."

"No. Not until you understand what I'm saying."

"I don't understand what you're saying. I have no idea what you're talking about. Is this about Granger today? Because I don't-"

"OF FUCKING COURSE IT'S ABOUT HERMIONE!" Harry roared. "Don't tell me you don't remember threatening her parents."

Draco stepped back, his hands in the air. "WOAH, I really don't know what you're on about now. I didn't threaten her parents. All I said was I wanted to visit-"

"Australia? You just _had_ to taunt her, knowing full well that she can't do anything for them?" Malfoy kept backing away. If Harry hadn't been so furious he might have noticed the sparks flying from his wand and how Malfoy looked terrified but never even reached for his wand.

"Potter, I'm telling you, you've got this all wrong. All I said was that after Hogwarts I wanted to vacation in Australia. Blaise's mum owns a winery B&B near Sydney and it's far enough away that no one will know who I am and I can just try to forget all about the past two years of my life. I'd make a joke about getting a tan, but I'm pretty sure you might curse me."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Oh sure, you expect me to believe you're just going to run away and drink your troubles away?"

"Uh, yeah. That's the plan."

Harry lowered his wand slightly.

"Seriously. Blaise is in the Great Hall right now. We can walk up and ask him. He doesn't like me so he has no reason to lie."

"So, you don't know anything about her parents...?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "No. I haven't exactly had an opportunity to keep tabs on everyone's comings and goings."

"Don't try to be funny."

"Look, I don't know what her deal is with her parents, but I have no plans to interfere with whatever holiday they've planned."

Harry swung another punch and this one landed.

"FUCK! Bloody hell Potter."

Harry ignored the searing pain in his knuckles. "Next time you think about making a joke, I want you to consider how you'd feel if your parents didn't remember you," he spat the words at Malfoy and turned around to go get lunch. He flexed his hand and almost doubled over from the pain. Perhaps he'd go see Madam Pomfrey first.

"Oh, it's you again." Madam Pomfrey absentmindedly pointed at a bed, "One week in. That might be a record even for you Mr. Potter."

He grumbled to himself.

"Well what have you done to yourself this time?"

"I punched... a wall." He held out his hand.

"Of course you did." She sighed to herself and set to work investigating his hand, a bit more roughly than he felt was necessary. She accio'd a small vial from her storage cupboard.

"Take this potion. It will keep the swelling down. You didn't break anything so there's no need to worry about bone regrowth."

"Aren't' you going to give me anything for the pain?"

"No, I think you'll manage," she raised an eyebrow at him and handed him a clipboard for him to document the "nature of his injury."

The door squeaked open and he looked up to see Malfoy walk in rubbing his jaw. They locked eyes and Malfoy nodded once before sitting down on a bed on the opposite side of the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey came bustling back out to see her newest patient and said dryly, "Oh Mr. Potter it appears your _wall_ has arrived."

Harry ignored this. He signed his name, handed the clip board back to Madam Pomfrey and nodded once at Malfoy and left, hoping there'd at least be something left in the Great Hall before Potions.


	3. The Grinch Was Okay After All

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Otherwise we would have seen Fred and George's swamp in the movie.

* * *

** Chapter 3: The Grinch Was Okay After All **

** Thursday, September 10 **

**Draco**

Draco was leaning by a tree near his favorite spot by the lake. He wasn't exactly the type to enjoy the "fresh air." Especially not in the summer. He hated the blasted heat. Pansy, as pale as she was, never seemed to burn. Theo just got bronzed up and became even more attractive than he already was. It wasn't good for his ego. Draco just got sweaty and red. But it was either that or endure another afternoon in his dorm, library, or common room. The only way to distract himself from the mutters and glares of his classmates was to study and he didn't think he could concentrate today at all.

It had barely been two weeks and he was already ready to not be at Hogwarts anymore. Only Pansy and Theo regularly spoke to him. Blaise and the Seventh Years didn't really talk to him. He and Blaise had never really gotten along so if anything that was a bonus. He didn't really care about the older students that blatantly hated him. They could think what they wanted to. It didn't change what he did or didn't do and it wasn't any of their business anyway. What did bother him were the terrified stares of the younger students who had been around for the previous year. Many of the older students that had been forced to torture the younger students had been able to get away with not having the ability to. You really did have to have the training and ability to channel that kind of aggression. And to do it particularly effectively you had to have even more training or just be naturally evil. Many of the other students in their year had been able to feign inability. There were some masking spells that could be used and would dull the effects of much weaker bouts of the Cruciatus. But it was common knowledge among the Death Eaters that he had two summers worth of training with Bellatrix and even a few sessions with the Dark Lord himself. There's no way he'd have been able to get away with anything less than a 6 on a scale of 1 to 10. And even dulled, that was excruciating. He'd always requested to be placed on the "discipline" committees for the older students, Sixth and Seventh Years. At least they were older, some of them even of age. He suspected a few of them knew he wasn't giving it his all. He supposed he should have done like Longbottom and flat out refused. But Longbottom had been able to hide. And his loved ones were hidden too. Draco hadn't had that luxury. His family was shacking up with the Dark Lord himself. Anything less then complete cooperation would have resulted in the torture and eventual murder of his mother. And if that made him a coward, then someone should get him a fucking trophy. He'd heard a phrase about how the people that stand by and allow small acts of evil to pass by are just as, if not more, complicit as the real monsters. Well, they can all suck it. _I did what I had to do, and I'd do it again. Well almost all of it. Maybe I could've trusted Snape more._

He started to go down that rabbit hole for the thousandth time when he was distracted by the presence of an ethereal blonde who materialized next to him.

"Hello, Draco."

"Lovegood."

"I prefer Luna, you know."

"I know."

She pulled out a contraption and began fiddling with it. He decided not to comment on it and scooted back out of the sun that had encroached on his space

A group of First and Second Years walked by. You could always tell how young they were because they looked like actual children. Something about the summer between Second and Third Year seemed to make all the difference. One of the Second Years (you could tell because they weren't quite as terrified as the rest) pointed at him and leaned in to tell the others something. The First Year from Ravenclaw that he recognized from the sorting ceremony looked at him with wide terrified eyes.

_Great. One more person that knows what a shit I am._

"Anyone who knows you knows how much you hate what you had to do last year."

"Well the people that know me are in the minority," he scoffed savagely.

"Maybe that's the problem. You should try making new friends. I know how much more I enjoyed everything after Fourth Year when I became friends with Harry, Ron, and, Hermione."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I think I heard that the Golden Trio is looking to make itself into a quartet. Do you know to which one of them I should send my application?"

She didn't say anything. That was one of the things he liked most about Luna. Theo and Pansy, raised Slytherin, were just as well versed in sarcasm as he was. They never let his self-depreciating comments go without a fight. And his mother always tried to tell him how wonderful he was. Luna just let him be a dick. He appreciated it.

"Seems like you're making new friends on your own just fine."

He raised an eyebrow at her. _Sarcasm from Lovegood?_

She reached out and touched the purple bruise on his jaw. He grunted.

"It takes a lot to get Harry physical. What did you say to him?"

He didn't say anything. He knew she already knew the parts of the story that mattered. It hadn't taken long for the Second Year that Potter used as a doorbell to tell everyone that he'd kicked Draco's ass for threatening Granger. _As if that's what happened._ That was the other nice thing about Luna. She never pushed. If he didn't want to talk about something, that was fine. He'd never found anyone who was as content to simply sit in silence with their own thoughts. After a long while he decided to ask the question he'd been ruminating over.

"Luna? What happened to Granger's parents?"

She looked up at him from her contraption. Her eyes were full of curiosity and then sadness.

"Why don't you ask her?"

"Well, when she thought I brought them up she thought I was threatening them. I don't think she'd tell me if I asked."

"And what makes you think you have any right to know?"

He avoided her gaze. "I don't. But I want to apologize to her and I'd like to know what I'm apologizing for."

She studied him. After what seemed like an hour she sighed and closed her eyes, laying back in the sun.

"I'll only say what you can find in the public records of the trials after the war. Anything more and you'll need to ask her."

He was silent. After a few moments she took a deep breath.

"Hermione's smart." He huffed and she glared at him. "But more than just book smart. She'd cunning enough to be in Slytherin. She saw the writing on the wall. She knew before Harry did that he'd have to be the one to go after Voldemort. She knew she'd go with him. And she knew her parents would have been a target. Harry would never been able to sacrifice them for the cause. So she erased their memories. She planned to go and find them when it was all over and fix it. She made them forget they had a daughter and convinced them to move far away. They've been there since the war."

Comprehension dawned on him. "She hasn't been able to restore their memories."

Luna was silent but he took it as confirmation. Of course she hadn't been able to restore them. She'd probably have known when she had done it they would likely have never been able to get their memories back. You can't hide something as significant as a child without permanently damaging things. Similarly, she must have used the Imperius Curse. Memory charms only remove and alter things. They don't create ideas or memories. Only very special and skilled people could fight the Imperius. Muggles didn't stand a chance. The combination of the two pieces of magic in her unskilled (though competent) hands would have done a number on the poor couple.

"And they're still in Australia?"

She started. "How do you know that's where they are?"

"I mentioned I wanted to vacation there after the school year. That's why she got upset."

Luna nodded. "Oh, well that makes sense. Quite a coincidence. She refused to tell the Ministry where they are after fear for their safety. Only Kingsley knows. And her friends."

He could see it easily now. No one outside of her friends had been told where they'd been sent. When he'd accidentally mentioned the place where they were hidden.

" _..Maybe spend a few months there exploring and meeting the locals."_

He cringed. It sounded very much like a threat. No wonder she'd reacted so much.

He considered her actions. On the surface, very Gryffindor. Sacrificing your parents for the greater good. But the fact that she'd had the foresight to think of it... very Slytherin. There had been plenty of people on the Order's side that hadn't thought of anything of the sort. He was sure she had saved their lives.

The Dark Lord had never trusted him with any plans regarding his classmates. After puking his guts out in the dining room to the sight of a professor with whom he'd never spent a minute alone with spill blood and guts on his childhood dinner table, the Dark Lord had never thought he'd have the stomach for real torture, despite what he told his father and Bellatrix. But he'd heard of similar missions for people Longbottom and Dean Thomas' family. Surely it would not have been difficult to find her parents' house.

He shuddered at a grisly image of two muggles with outrageous brown curly hair bloodied on the floor of a meager kitchen. Greyback would be in the corner. There weren't children but his taste for any kind of easy blood would have had him begging to come along. And his general stench and appearance would be sure to terrify anyone. They'd have probably brought along Dolohov... after all rumor said that he was the one to curse her in the Department of Mysteries. That would be a taunt enough for any parent. He imagined the couple cowering on the floor. The mother screaming and the father with silent tears streaming down his face. A pale hand holding a hawthorn wand...

"Why did Harry think you threatened them?" Luna interrupted him and he silently thanked the gods for a reprieve from his nightmare.

"I mentioned I wanted to visit Australia. I'm planning on staying at Blaise's mother's winery this summer to... get away from it all. I think she thought it was a veiled threat against them."

Luna sat up and looked at him with her piercing eyes.

"Obviously I'd do nothing of the sort. I mean her, nor her loved ones, any harm."

Luna stood up and started to walk away. She turned back at the last second. "And why do you assume that would be common knowledge?"

He watched her walk away with guilt rising in his chest. Of course she'd have no idea. He'd tormented her for six straight years, tried to murder the greatest wizard ever known, stood by as she was tortured in his home, and then foolishly tried to trap her friends during the battle. Of course she thought he was the same vein of Death Eater she was used to. She, nor anyone else, had any reason to think otherwise. Potter had testified at both his and his mother's trials. Well he'd testified at his father's too but that had been a scathing three hours of testimony against him. It was obvious why he'd wanted to help his mother. She hadn't really needed it. It was clear from the Veritaserum she volunteered to take that she'd simply been trying to protect her son. And him? He assumed it was his way of paying back the debt of almost killing him Sixth Year with that godforsaken curse. He rubbed his chest absentmindedly. But as Potter told the story of how he'd "lowered his wand" on the Astronomy Tower and "refused" to identify them at the manor, his eyes never left Draco. And Draco knew hate when he saw it.

He suddenly felt sympathy for Granger. What a sacrifice. His father was an evil son of a bitch and if he never saw him again, it would be too soon. His mother was overbearing and manipulative but she loved him and always did everything she could for him. Could he have done something like that? Lose the one person who always had his back no matter the crime? No. Never. He glanced up at the tower he knew held the Gryffindor dormitories. She deserved better, surely. That morning he'd casually dropped his book bag outside Mandy's office. She'd come out and said hello. She'd said nothing about the pairings. If Granger had complained and asked to switch he was sure she would have said something. Clearly Granger was committed to the "suffer in silence" way of doing things. He also suspected Granger might be the one person at Hogwarts whose pride rivaled his own.

* * *

** Friday, September 11 **

**Hermione**

The rest of the week went by uneventfully. She was certainly glad it was Friday. She'd had no further contact with Malfoy since the incident. Determined to show him that she wasn't scared of him she'd written down the rest of the answers to the questionnaire. She got to Mandy's early again and waited so that she could give them to him and enjoy her weekend.

She saw the door opening and stood up, far away this time to avoid being a human barrier again.

He stepped out of the door looking resigned and caught sight of her.

"Granger."

"Malfoy." She brandished the paper towards him, trying to keep her hand steady. "Here's my side of the questionnaire. You can finish yours and give them to me at the beginning of Group so I can have time to review them before we have to introduce each other."

"Thanks." He put it in his bag and walked down the hall. "Have a good weekend." He muttered under his breath and continued down the corridor.

Her session with Mandy was fine. They discussed the merits of working for the Ministry for the better part of an hour. Mandy told her how she'd become a therapist and about her experience working in prisons. She found Mandy to be a very nice woman. It was interesting to meet someone from America. Mandy showed her some photos of her home in California. It looked very warm and nice.

When she got back up to the Gryffindor Common Room she sat down next to Ginny.

"An infant Slytherin delivered this just a minute ago." She raised her eyebrow at Hermione. "I didn't know you approved of using First Years as owls these days."

Hermione grabbed the scroll.

_So you don't have to wait until the last minute to prepare your introduction. DM_

Malfoy had filled out the questionnaire in excruciating detail.

"Anything interesting?" Ginny asked. Hermione shook her head and put the scroll in her bag before taking the Butterbeer Neville handed her.

"I swear they get smaller every year," Neville joked. "No way we were that awkward."

Seamus reminded everyone of the greatest hits of Neville's various embarrassments First Year. Harry reminded everyone of each time Seamus had burned off an eyebrow. The rest of the evening was spent reminiscing about their early years in Hogwarts and poking fun at each other. She fell asleep on Ron's shoulder. She didn't wake up until he started snoring, the Common Room deserted, him slumped against the arm of the sofa and her slumped against his chest. She kissed his cheek and pulled a blanket over him before heading up to her bed. She didn't even notice Parvati blissfully asleep in her bed for the first time all term.

* * *

** Saturday, September 19 **

**Hermione**

BOOM

Hermione sat bolt upright in bed, her heart racing.

CRACKLE. BOOM.

Parvati cursed. "What's going on?"

Hermione looked at her watch. It was 1 AM.

A bright flash had both girls scrambling frantically to the window.

"Oh of all the things..." Hermione rolled her eyes.

Parvati chuckled and headed back to bed.

Someone had set off fireworks. From the sounds of it, the troublemakers had more. She could see three figures through darkness and could hear them laughing at the bottom of the tower.

BOOM. Her annoyance was starting to get the better of her. She was about to slam the window shut and cast a silencing charm when the grand finale happened.

Glittering in bright gold letters were the words "Happy Birthday!"

She grinned in spite of herself. She opened the window wider and waved down at the group. They whooped and cheered and she rolled her eyes.

A silence fell just long enough for her to hear an irate Professor McGonagall berating them and forcing them back into the castle.

She pulled her dressing gown over her PJs and went down to meet them in the Common Room whenever McGonagall had finished with them.

* * *

**Ron**

Ron woke up with the stiffness that can only be associated with falling asleep in an awkward position. He opened his eyes. Harry was asleep on the floor in front of the armchair where Ginny was snoring, a bottle of Butterbeer nestled in the crook of her arm. Neville was sprawled on a pouf across from him, drooling on the upholstery.

Ron had once again fallen asleep on the couch but this time Hermione was still there when he woke up. Her head rested on his thigh and one of her crazy curls was bouncing from her breath. He stroked her hair and for a few minutes forgot about anything other than the moment at hand.

She finally stirred, looked around, and stretched. She sat up and gave him a tight hug.

"Happy birthday Hermione," he whispered.

"Thank you, Ron."

Without thinking, he placed a light kiss on her lips that increased in intensity slowly. They rested their foreheads together, both breathing heavily.

Suddenly, Hermione yelped and clapped her hands to her mouth. "Oh, morning breath!" She looked so adorably horrified and Ron thought to himself that her morning breath was his favorite way to wake up.

Her yelp had stirred Ginny who groaned and shifted, the bottle of Butterbeer crashing to the ground, splattering Harry.

He cursed which woke up Neville and Dean, Seamus, and the two Sixth Years who were sleeping on one of the other couches.

Everyone laughed and Ginny accio'd some hangover potions from her room and led the group in a raucous chorus of "Happy Birthday."

"You promised McGonagall that you were done sneaking around after hours!" Hermione scolded Harry and Ron and playfully.

"Well it was Ginny's idea. I couldn't very well let my girlfriend wander around the castle. You know how dangerous it is these days."

"Oh yes, certainly." Hermione rolled her eyes. "And Ron, were you also protecting Ginny from the dangers of after hours shenanigans?"

"Oh no," Ron said laughing, "I was protecting her honor!"

Ginny threw a pillow at Ron and hit Hermione instead.

"Well you could have easily waited until the light hours of the morning to wish me a happy birthday! You did wake me up after all."

"Yes, but this was so much more fun! The look on your face was priceless." Ron grabbed HErmione back and rumpled her hair. She blushed.

"Worth it. Even if we did get detention all day today and next Saturday."

"The next _two_ Saturdays." Harry reminded her "You just couldn't keep a straight face..."

"Well it's not _my_ fault that she forgot to magic away her green anti wrinkle clay eye mask before punishing us!"

"Yeah, the stuff of nightmares, that was." Ron made a disgusted face. They all roared with laughter.

"Well thank you," she kissed Ron's cheek and his stomach flipped. "Though you have to apologize to Parvati. You woke her up too."

Ginny checked her watch. "Well come on, let's get ready and go down to breakfast before we report to McGonagall."

They all made for the dorms but Ron grabbed Hermione's wrist and held her back.

"Happy birthday," he muttered holding out a heavy wrapped package.

She took it from him and investigated the package, "You know, you don't _always_ have to get me a book, Ron. I do actually have other interests."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh just unwrap the bloody thing."

She was one of those infuriating people that unwrapped presents slowly and deliberately, trying not to rip the paper. In slow motion she undid the paper. She inspected the present turning it over in her hands.

"Madam Pince was just going to throw them all out. The Death Eaters burned most of the muggle section last year and a lot of them were past repair she said. You're always going on about that one. I know it's all burned up, but I still thought you'd be sad if you found out she'd chucked it..." He watched as she stroked the spine where some of the gold foil of the title remained. He'd hallowed out most of the book's burned pages to make a sunken spot for a photo. She'd told him the story behind it when he went back to her house for the first time after the battle. She was about 5 and they'd taken her ice skating for the first time. She'd been terrible at it, but her mum and dad and both pretended that they were terrible too so that she wouldn't feel embarrassed. Hermione stared at the photo which he'd put behind a sheet of glass and enchanted snow to fall down from the top. "I had Perc stop by your parents' place and make a copy. I couldn't quite get the spell right so you'll have to replenish the snow ever few days. I didn't want to ask you to teach me how and spoil the surprise. I know it's a weird present but I ju-"

Hermione had thrown herself at him and gave him the tightest hug she could. "Oh, Ron, it's perfect. Thank you. You don't know what this means to me." Her eyes were sparkling with tears.

"Oh, it's nothing.. I just... Harry said I should get you jewelry but I just... thought you'd like this..."

"Well I can't thank you enough. It's very sweet. If I ever accuse you of having the emotional range of a teaspoon again-"

"-I'll know you've gone back to normal" He quoted her own line back her.

She laughed. "Well thank you again. I'll... I'll just put this upstairs and change."

He watched her bound up the girl's dormitories but she looked back at the last minute and put her hand over her heart and gave him the sweetest smile before disappearing. He groaned to himself and as he went up to his own room thought he might finally understand that stupid muggle book she always made them read on Christmas Eve about the green bloke whose heart grew three sizes all at once.


	4. The "Terry Boot is an Idiot " Fanclub

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Harry Potter. Otherwise the burrow would never have been burned down.

* * *

** Chapter 4: The "Terry Boot is an Idiot " Fanclub **

** Monday, September 21 **

**Harry**

They'd all fallen into a routine by this point. They all had good days and bad ones. Harry had been surprised how many good days they all seemed to have.

Today was not one of them.

After flying on the pitch with Ginny and Ron on Sunday they'd run into Cho. She was heading back up to the castle after seeing Professor Sprout. Apparently it was Cedric's birthday and she'd come to visit the memorial. Even though Cedric hadn't died at the battle, they'd included his name on the memorial gazebo McGonagall had built anyway.

He hadn't even known when Cedric's birthday was. After giving her a hug he'd refused to go up to the castle. Ginny had grabbed his pinky and suggested going for a walk but he tugged his hand away and went off by himself. After feeding Fang and helping himself to Hagrid's strongest liquor, he sat up against the wall of Hagrid's cabin until long after the sun had set. Hagrid had been gone all week helping Charlie with various creatures that had been displaced. It was just as well. Harry hadn't wanted to talk to anyone.

He hadn't slept well. Images of graveyards and Cedric's glassy eyes haunted him all night. He woke up hungover and sleep deprived and in a mood that rivaled most of that of his Fifth Year. He didn't ask Ginny for a hangover potion. She and Hermione were the only ones in Gryffindor smart enough to brew them. Hermione refused to brew it for he and Ron. She said that if they were irresponsible enough to drink so much that they needed one, they deserved to suffer the consequences. He didn't want to answer any questions from Ginny. So he skipped breakfast, not sure he'd be able to keep anything down anyway.

About a thousand annoying "How are you doings" and "Do you want to talk about its" from Hermione and Ginny made him snap at them both to "Leave me the fuck alone and go baby someone else. I don't need your help." Ginny threw her silver wear down and hit him in the head with her bag storming out of the Great Hall. Ron had sent him a contemptuous look as he stroked Hermione's hair as she held back tears. After a tense lunch, a failed Potions practical, and the most boring Transfiguration theoretical lesion he'd ever had, he trudged up to see Mandy. He didn't want to go. They were each allowed to skip two sessions. But he'd need to skip next Monday for Quidditch trials and a very Hermione voice in his head said it was not wise to use up both free passes in the first month of the year.

"Hello, Harry, how are you today."

"Fine," he spat.

"Would you like to talk about it?" She asked tentatively.

"No."

"Okay, well is there anything you would like to talk about?"

"No."

"Alright." Why was she always so agreeable? It was harder to dislike her that way. He couldn't stand the respectfully concerned look on her face as she watched him pace in front of the sofa he normally sat on.

Finally he flung himself onto the couch and looked around the room. His eye caught a photo of a younger Mandy and her friends in muggle graduation robes. It hit him like a ton of bricks.

"It's not fair."

"What isn't fair?"

"All of it."

She didn't ask him to clarify, but just sat there quietly, waiting patiently.

"Cedric didn't need to die."

"No, he didn't. That was very tragic."

"It just... all of it was so unnecessary. And now we all have to walk around carrying them on our shoulders."

"All of them?"

"Yes. Cedric. Lavender and Colin. Sirius and Lupin and Tonks. Moody. Dumbledore and Snape. All the others." He absentmindedly kicked the leg of the coffee table. "Dobby."

"And you feel like you have to carry around their memories?"

"Well if I don't remember them, who will?"

"They were all well known. Certainly there are many who grieve for them aside from you."

"Well the others didn't..." He got back up and walked to the window. "It wasn't..."

"Harry, I don't think I'd be the first to remind you that their deaths aren't your fault."

"Well then whose fault is it?" He was tired of people telling him shit wasn't his fault.

"It's not for me to say."

Harry found this the most unsatisfying answer. He scoffed.

"I can't tell you how to feel. I certainly can't tell you want's okay for you to feel. But many of the people you just mentioned were adults and highly trained witches and wizards. They made decisions and unfortunately some of those decisions lead to their deaths. As for your classmates, their deaths were tragic and we all wish it could have been avoided."

"Yeah, yeah." He'd heard these arguments before. Usually from Hermione.

He watched the giant squid churn the water of the lake. There was a long silence between them.

"May I ask a question?" Mandy asked him

He didn't respond.

"How do you feel towards the Death Eaters? The ones that survived."

"I mean I try not to think about them."

"Do you blame them for the deaths of your loved ones?"

He rolled his eyes. This was always Ron's argument.

"Well, yes, obviously."

"But you also feel responsible." It wasn't a question.

"I just... I feel like I should have done more."

"Harry, what more do you feel you could have done? For the first of those deaths you were 14. It's a miracle you survived."

"Yeah, well, that's the point."

"Surely you've heard of survivor's guilt." He chose to ignore this.

"It was Cedric's birthday on Sunday. I didn't even know. I spent all morning flying. It wasn't until I ran into Cho that I even remembered... that it wasn't a normal year. It's like we forgot."

He could feel her eyes on him. He tried to ignore the burning in his throat.

"Acceptance is a normal part of grief."

"It's not fair to forget them."

"Who says you forgot them?"

"I just... It's too soon."

"Too soon for what?"

"Too soon... Too soon to have fun. Too soon to talk about them casually. Too soon to forget."

"There isn't a timeline on grief. When we remember those we've lost remembering the happy things is just as important as acknowledging the loss."

"Yeah, well I wasn't remembering anything. I was too focused on having fun."

"If you had died in the battle how would you feel if your friends forced themselves to mourn you every minute of every day."

"Well obviously I wouldn't want that."

"What makes you think all those people would want you to be miserable just for the sake of their memory?" This was Ginny's argument.

"I just... I just don't want anyone to forget."

"Do you talk with your friends about the people you miss?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It makes them sad."

"And are you the only one who's allowed to be sad?"

He scoffed. "Well obviously not. I just... It makes it harder. They've all lost enough. Cried enough. I don't like seeing them like that."

"I can understand that. It is hard to see our loved ones in pain."

He didn't respond. They were both quiet for a very long time.

"Well, Harry, our time is up for today. Thank you for opening up to me."

He picked up his bag and moved towards the door. Before he could open it, Mandy spoke softly. "Harry?" He turned to look at her for the first time the whole session. "I hope you'll consider... What if your friends are afraid of forgetting too?"

* * *

** Sunday, September 27 **

**Draco**

Draco woke early on Sunday and made his way to the lake. He settled against a tree and began drafting an overdue letter to his mother.

_Mother,_

_Hogwarts has been fine. I am grateful that Theo and Pansy returned this year. I spend most of my free time in the library or on the grounds with them. We're thinking of having shirts made up: "My father was a Death Eater and all I got was this lousy Tee Shirt." Of course, I'm the ringleader so mine will say "My father forced me into business with the Dark Lord and now all my friends hate me and I owe my life to the Chosen One." Too long? I thought so too. I'll try to come up with something catchier. Stay tuned._

_Most of the other Slytherins ignore us. I don't think they know what to make of us, especially me. With the exception of a few hostile Ravenclaws the rest of the school has been generally civil. Potter punched me, but I found out later I deserved it. I'm working on a plan to rile up Weasley. If I can get all three of the Golden Trio to punch me maybe I'll be a collector's item. I know you're always telling me I should consider my most unique qualities as I search for the next Mrs. Malfoy. I really think that'll push me over the edge in the pureblood wife market._

_The other Eighth Years pretty much ignore me. Longbottom has been surprisingly friendly. I suppose that has to do with Luna. I think most of the others would just prefer I'd disappear. Most of them listened to the trial I'm sure. They probably all think I deserve what I got. I can't really say I blame them. I know how you feel about my sentiments there but I feel like there's more I could have done. But you know what they say about hindsight..._

_They're making us go to therapy this year. We have to sit in this torturous group session each Wednesday where we all talk about our feelings. Then we have to meet with her for an hour individually. I suppose they're trying to keep us all from killing each other (or ourselves). But I don't know how she could expect I'd really complain about my lot in life sitting next to people like Susan Bones and Longbottom and Granger who've pretty much lost everything to the Dark Lord. What am I supposed to say? I feel guilty but I can't do anything about it now? Sorry I let Death Eaters into the school, I just was trying to keep my mum alive and I was scared shitless the Dark Lord would kill me? I take the long way from my room at the Manor to the informal dining room so I don't have to walk past the Drawing Room and formal Dining Room where he did all that shit? No, we all made our choices and we ended up on the wrong side. Plus, Malfoy men don't wallow. Or so Father told me in his last letter. And no, I don't intend on writing back. And no, I won't be visiting him at Christmas. You won't convince me otherwise so please stop trying._

_I found out Granger sent her parents away last summer. She wiped their memories and sent them off to live in Australia under pseudonyms so that they couldn't be used against her and Potter. I suppose it was very smart of her. I'm actually surprised the Dark Lord never tried to find them. Certainly Potter wouldn't have been able to look the other way on two innocent muggles. I certainly couldn't have done it. Apparently the healers in Australia haven't had any success lifting the charm. They aren't sure they ever will though they're still working on it. I still can't wrap my head around it. Luna told me. She says hello and asked how your roses are doing. She suggested you pick up a copy of next month's Quibbler. Apparently they're running an article about how the fertilizer you like is actually enchanted moon dust. Supposedly the Ministry put so much effort into collecting it that's why they can't seem to get the damned government back up and running. I have to say it's not her worst theory. Anyway, promised I'd pass the message along. She understands why I want to keep my distance in public. I'd rather not sully her image, even though she is such an odd girl already._

_Classes are fine. They grouped us all in with the Seventh Year NEWT students and we only have one theoretical lesson and two double practical lessons per class per week this year. Most people are excited about the free time. I suppose I'm excited about spending more time in the library._

_I worry about Theo. He goes to visit his father every weekend and nearly drinks himself to death afterwards. He also stays up every night working on his research for the Ministry. He probably gets less sleep than me. He only agreed to come to the Manor for Christmas because I told him you needed the company. I think he was planning on spending the entire holiday alone in the Nott Manor. He wasn't happy about it but I think deep down he's glad he'll have company. Pansy is mostly quiet these days. I never thought I'd miss her endless gossiping and fashion drivel. She said Mrs. Parkinson is taking her to the Alps for break. I think that will be nice. She said she hasn't been back to their house since the Battle. She stayed with the Greengrass' and I know she didn't want to go back over Christmas. She's not eating very much and she rarely comes to the Great Hall but I make sure to bring her extra pastries when they serve her favorites. I haven't seen her like this since second year when her Grandmother passed. Of course that was different because Madam Parkinson was loved by everyone and she feels like she's not allowed to miss him. Anyway, I think they'll both be okay in due time._

_I love you and miss you. I'll see you at Christmas._

_Draco_

He read it over. No, that certainly wouldn't do. He set the parchment on fire and watched the ash fly away. He took out a new sheet.

_Mother,_

_Thank you for your letter. It was kind of you to send the book. I've almost finished it._

_Classes are fine. The coursework is more demanding but I'm staying on top of things._

_I received Father's letters. I apologize I haven't made time to write him back. We can discuss a visit when I come home for break._

_Please let Mrs. Parkinson know that I am watching out for Pansy. Theo will be coming for Christmas. He was touched by your invitation._

_I'll write again soon._

_Draco_

He sighed. What his mother didn't know wouldn't hurt her. He walked back up to the castle to send of his letter.

On his through the courtyard he saw Granger sitting cross-legged reading a massive Arithmancy tome. She was using both hands to keep it upright and rolled her shoulders under the weight of it. For a split second he considered reminding her there's a spell for that but decided against it as Weasley came up and sat down next to her and held up the book for her.

* * *

** Wednesday, September 30 **

**Hermione**

Hermione was annoyed. Harry and Ron had stayed up late finishing homework they'd procrastinated so they'd been late to breakfast. Now they were going to be late to Group because they'd begged her to look over their work. When she'd pointed this out they acted annoyed that she wanted to read her novel instead of their essays. "You can read later that mystery book tonight. You're all caught up with homework anyway," Harry had said. Like that was really the point.

The bell rang just as she flung the door open, not bothering to hold it for them. There weren't three seats together which was fine with her. She threw her bag on the floor and flopped down in the chair between Neville and Malfoy. Neville jumped. She huffed as Ron and Harry muttered to themselves in confused tones and sat down in the other two seats next to Parvati. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. She gave him a scathing look and he turned his attention back to whatever spot on the wall he usually stared at during these sessions.

"Good morning everyone!" Mandy entered the room brightly.

Hermione was still silently seething as various people volunteered to share on this week's topics: personal heroes. She wasn't in a sharing mood today.

Susan spoke up. She didn't usually. Had Hermione been a better mood she would have given Susan an encouraging look as she mentioned that her aunt (who had also been her godmother) had been her role model.

Blaise Zabini was going on about some wizard business mogul. Apparently he was his future career inspiration. What a prick, she thought and rolled her eyes. Malfoy gave an almost imperceptible scoff next to her.

A couple people laughed when Dean said he thought Mandy meant superheroes like Spiderman. Terry Boot was fascinated by all of the different superheroes and Dean promised he'd owl his mother to send him some of his old comics and he'd share them with anyone who was interested. _Honestly why were they all so dense about muggle culture? They lived alongside muggles after all._

A few more people shared.

"Hermione would you like to talk about your personal hero today?"

Hermione felt all the eyes of the room on her. She smoothed her skirt and shook her head. Most of the people left were those that didn't typically say anything. Pansy, Parvati, Theo, Malfoy, Harry, Ron.

Her annoyance increased. Honestly, would it kill Harry and Ron to participate once?

Parvati, she understood. She and Lavender had been inseparable. Pansy had always been awful but Hermione felt a strange pang of sympathy for her and Theo. Theo wasn't as bad as Malfoy and Pansy had been. Sure, he'd laugh at the jokes at their expense but she couldn't remember him ever being purposefully cruel. The two of them stuck to themselves almost as much as Malfoy. She understood. Neither of them had been involved with Death Eater activity but their fathers had and everyone knew all about the unspeakable acts they'd done. She imagined she'd stick to herself as well. She didn't know what Malfoy's deal was. She assumed it was much of the same. Most people either wanted to pretend he didn't exist or were scared shitless of them. After all, he was the only person at the school who had a Dark Mark. At Padma's study group, the other Ravenclaws were talking about how they didn't think he deserved to be here and that he had nothing to grieve. "It's not as though he lost anyone other than Crabbe," one of them had said. She didn't really agree. She figured he'd suffered enough. His statement at his trial had been quite moving. She still remembered the way his throat caught as he recounted their time at the Manor. But she hadn't said anything in his defense around the group.

But Harry and Ron? They were so popular now and she really felt like they had a responsibility to be good examples. She knew Harry was struggling. He didn't like to talk about anything or anyone and he got annoyed when anyone else did and especially if it resulted in tears. He had is own issues, but he could at least put in an effort. Ron just didn't want to look stupid or soft, she thought. She rolled her eyes at the thought. Honestly...

That's why her mouth fell open when Harry spoke up. "I was thinking a lot about Colin this weekend." Most of the room looked just as shocked as she felt. "I mean he wasn't my _hero_ or anything, but I always admired how excited he was. Coming from a muggle background, that first year was so overwhelming, at least for me. But Colin was always going around with that blasted camera even though he was just an annoying first year." a few people chuckled. "He... It didn't seem like he was afraid of anything. Anyway, I was just thinking about that over the weekend." He shuffled awkwardly and Mandy positively beamed at him.

"Thank you everyone for sharing. Is there anything anyone else would like to talk about?"

They proceeded with the typical drivel that they usually did.

Someone complained about the Quidditch schedule. She drummed her fingers on the side of the chair. Malfoy took a deep breath.

Terry Boot wanted to know if anyone else felt like the quality of the food had gone down this year. She cracked her knuckles. Malfoy huffed.

Hannah Abbott reminded them all to vote on the theme for winter formal. She looked up at the ceiling trying to control her temper. Malfoy's sigh escalated to an audible groan.

Terry complained about not being made Head Boy _again_. She audibly sighed and ignored a shushing sound from Neville beside her. Malfoy seemed to have reach the end of his rope and muttered under his breath "If he wants 'Head' duties so bad I know a guy who's into that..." She fought a smile.

She found it unsettling that the same things seemed to annoy both she and Malfoy. When had they ever been on the same page about anything? She tried to ignore him. She also found it unsettling that she found something he said funny.

Hermione didn't mind the Group sessions. She felt it was worthwhile to listen to the other students talk about their feelings regarding the battle and their losses. But they had plenty of time to talk about the other random stuff in between classes. Honestly, there were so many other things that she could be doing.

"Next week we will be discussing praise and words of affirmation. Please consider the topic and come prepared to discuss your thoughts!" The bell rang and she called after them, "Have a wonderful week everyone!"

As they made their way out of the classroom, Terry rounded on Hermione.

"Do you think we should ask McGonagall if she'd consider making co-heads? Honestly I'm sure if anyone was going to be appointed head, it would have been you. I know you have a free period tomorrow morning. Let me know if you want to meet up and discuss arguments. I know that the Heads of Houses are usually the ones that nominate for the Heads. I know the letters went out before most of us Eighth Years had decided to come back so it's possible that it was just an oversight on McGonagall and Flitwick's part. I've owled several past Heads and they all indicated how instrumental their position was in securing a job after Hogwarts. I'm sure if we just-"

At this _she_ reached the end of her rope.

"Oh SHUT UP, Terry. Honestly if anyone was going to be named Head Boy from our year it would have been Justin and everyone knows it. I personally have plenty to be getting on with without extra responsibilities. Plus I've already received several job offers so I'm not concerned. Stop being such a kiss ass. And honestly, that's coming from me..."

She ignored the indignant look on Terry's face as she pushed past him.

She heard a strange laugh behind her and looked back. Malfoy was biting back a smile and made eye contact with her before chocking back another laugh and heading in the opposite direction.


	5. Alberferth and Bublerry

**Author’s Note:**

I don’t own Harry Potter. Otherwise JKR would have included a diagram of the potion riddle in the Sorcerer’s Stone so we could have all figured it out along with Hermione.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Alberferth and Bublerry**

* * *

**Thursday, October 1**

**Ron**

_Dearest Ronald,_

_I hope you are doing well and studying hard. Your father ran into the Prime Minister and he mentioned that you’d expressed interest in the Auror training program and that you intend to enroll after the school year is over. I must admit that I was surprised to hear this as you never mentioned anything to either of us. Though we are, of course, very proud of everything you’ve done, I must admit that I expected you would go into administrative Ministry service much like your brother Percy has. I understand that the Auror program seems very glamorous right now but you should really consider how demanding and advanced the training program is. Very few people actually make it all the way through and I know how excited you are to leave schooling behind. There are so many administrative roles that are needed right now and I’ve already taken the liberty of owling several department heads who would be absolutely thrilled to receive your qualifications. I’ve included their names and descriptions of the positions that are open. I told them to expect to hear from you within the week._

Ron sighed. Of fucking course she did “took the liberty.” He looked at the supplemental pages of the letter. Department of General Administration. Scheduling and Executive Assistance Department. Policy and Bylaws Department. He audibly groaned. Who did she think he was, Percy? 

_Please encourage your sister to respond to my letters. She seems to be under the impression that she will be staying with Harry not only over Christmas break but after graduation. As you know, for some stubborn reason she and Harry don’t plan on even discussing marriage for several years and it is highly inappropriate for them to consider living together before even setting a date. Charlie also mentioned that he ran into Gwenog Jones who apparently invited Ginny to a trial over winter break. I was shocked to hear that she had accepted the invitation. Regardless, I already told Ginevra that she is expected to stay with Bill and Fleur over the summer to help out with Victoire when Fleur goes back to work part time. I assured Bill that she would be thrilled to offer her assistance as it will be invaluable maternal practice but he insists on paying her anyway. I suppose it’s never too early to start a nest egg. She is absolutely refusing to acknowledge my recent correspondence I know how she looks up to you and I'm sure that if you prod her in the right direction we can get her on a responsible track._

Ron scoffed. Ginny didn’t give two shits what anyone thought, least of all him. He did not fancy the hex she’d put on him if he even _considered_ giving her advice on what about she and Harry’s relationship was “appropriate” or not. Again, who did she think he was? Percy? 

_I hope you are studying hard. You know how important NEWTs are and I think that now that Harry isn’t distracting you with his various extracurricular activities you'll be able to achieve slightly higher marks than you did on your OWLs. Though you still did very well on your OWLs there is always room for improvement. I know that even Hermione was disappointed that she didn’t receive the highest marks in everything._

He banged the back of his head on the wall. Harry’s “extracurricular” activities, she’d called it. He wasn’t sure that fighting You Know Who was really the same as Gobstones Club. 

_Your father and I look forward to hearing which Ministry departments you’re interested in._

_Love,_

_Mum_

He crumpled up the pages and tossed them at the rubbish bin across the hall. 

Mandy’s door opened and he trudged in. 

“How are you today Ron?” 

“Fine.” he said flatly. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” 

“No.” 

“Would you like to pay chess?” 

He eyed her and she seemed serious. 

“No talking?” 

She chuckled. “No talking.” 

“I’ll take white.” 

* * *

**Saturday, October 3**

**Draco**

Draco slowly made his way up to the Great Hall with Pansy. 

“Honestly, I just don’t know what she wants from me,” Pansy was irritated at her mother _again. “_ I already told her I'd go to the damned lodge. I don’t know why she wants to pretend it’s just like any other Christmas. Nothing will ever be the same again.” 

“I think they just want to bury their heads in the sand.” By “they” he meant mothers. His certainly was refusing to acknowledge anything other than rainbows and butterflies. 

“Yeah, well I wish she’d get off my fucking back. I’d honestly rather stay here. It would at least be peaceful since most people will be gone.” 

“Yeah me too. But I don’t want to be responsible for the death of my mother as well. She already reminded me to pack send off for green dress robes as that’s the theme for this year’s Christmas Eve dinner. Honestly, what is she thinking? It’ll just be me and her.” he rolled his eyes. 

“I thought Theo was staying with you.” 

“He is. But you know how he gets on Christmas Eve. I doubt he’ll even come out of his room.” 

“Yeah. He didn’t look great when he left this morning.” 

“He never does anymore.” 

“Well just remember to roll him on his side tonight.” 

“That’s not funny, Pans.” 

She sighed. “I know.” 

They rounded the corner and the scent of breakfast wafted towards them. 

“Mmm. I wonder if they have chocolate scones. They haven’t--” She stopped in her tracks at the sight of Potter, Granger, and the two Weasleys coming out of the Great Hall. “On second thought, I'm not hungry.” 

“Pansy. You ha--” He tried to grab her hand but she had already turned around to head back to the Slytherin Common Room. 

“See you tonight.” she called out in a hollow voice to him. 

The three of them waved to Granger as she headed in the opposite direction. Potter and Ginny held hands and practically skipped down the corridor towards him. Ron made an awkward show of hugging Granger and then followed the two of them. 

Ron glared at him and crossed his arms. 

Draco looked at Potter but he was whispering a joke in Ginny’s ear. She caught Draco’s eye and nudged Potter.” 

“Malfoy.” He nodded. 

Malfoy had stopped walking but the trio had passed him. He took a deep breath and turned around. “Potter. A word?” 

Potter raised an eyebrow but told the other two he’d meet them there and stepped towards Draco with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “What’s up?” 

Draco looked back at Weaslette and Weasel. They were out of earshot. 

“I... I just wanted to apologize.” 

Potter raised his eyebrow even further. 

“Oh.” He looked surprised. “Well, thanks but you’re apologizing to the wrong person.” 

Draco was confused. “Huh?” 

“The Australia thing? You should tell Hermione, not me.” 

“Oh. Well, yeah. I didn’t know. I certainly didn’t mean anything by it.” 

“Thanks, but like I said, you should talk to Hermione.” 

Draco nodded. He could just walk away. This was uncomfortable as it was. 

“See you ‘round, Malfoy.” Potter had started to turn away. 

“Wait. I wasn’t talking about that.” Potter scowled at him. “I mean, I am sorry about that. But I meant... I meant about everything else... I apologize for everything I... for everything my family put you through.” 

Whatever Potter had expected him to say, this certainly wasn’t it. 

“Uh. Thanks.” 

“Anyway, that was it. Just sorry. And thanks. Thanks for speaking at my mother’s hearing. I’m very grateful.” He looked down and took a deep breath summoning all of the courage he had. “And for my trial.” 

“Sure. It was... It was nothing.” 

The stared at each other. Draco hoped that the earth would simple open up and swallow him whole. Potter’s eyes were boring into his. He’d heard Snape complain about how poor of an Occlumens Potter was. But in this moment he felt like Potter could see straight through to his soul. 

Potter stepped forward towards him and Draco resisted the urge to draw his wand. Potter held out his hand. 

Draco stared at it. Potter took one step closer. Hesitantly, Draco shook his hand. 

The taunt bubbled up before he could stop it. Snark was his defense mechanism after all. “So are we best friends now?” 

Potter laughed. “Maybe we start with avoiding open hostilities.” 

Draco nodded and Potter turned around and Draco watched him walk away. “You’re not worried about ruining your reputation by associating with my kind of people? 

A few steps away, Potter turned around. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Finally he said, “No. I told you once I could tell the ‘wrong sort’ for myself. I still mean that.” 

Draco watched him walk away with an open mouth and wondered if 10 AM was too early for a drink. 

* * *

**Hermione**

“I can’t believe we have detention for the first Hogsmeade weekend,” Ron said sourly. 

“We’re Eighth Years, we can technically go whenever we want as long as we’re back by curfew.” Hermione. 

“Yeah, but it’s not the same without being able to kick Third Years out of the way.” 

“RON!” She hit him 

They had enjoyed a lazy brunch in the Great Hall before Harry, Ron, and Ginny had to serve their final detention. 

“Are you still going?” Ginny asked 

“Yeah, I'm meeting Luna. We’ll do some shopping and then probably go see Aberforth.” 

“Would you mind picking me up a few things from Honeydukes?” 

“Of course not! What do you want?” 

Ginny fished a short list out of her bag. 

“At least you asked nicely,” she shot an accusatory look at Harry and Ron. 

Ginny rolled her eyes at the boys. “Aren’t they the fucking worst?” 

Hermione laughed. “Yeah, but I think we should keep them in spite of it. Do you agree?” 

Ginny pretended to ponder the question at hand. Harry swooped in and gave her a sloppy short kiss. “Yes, we should definitely keep _Harry_.” She winked at Ron who was making a disgusted face. 

“Oi! What did I say about keeping the snogging to a minimum?” 

They all laughed and exited the Great Hall. They hugged goodbye and Hermione made her out to the courtyard to meet up with Luna. 

Predictably, Luna came floating out of the castle. When she spotted Hermione she greeted her as though it was a great coincidence they’d happened upon each other. They made their way down the path with the other students. 

“Did you have a nice birthday?” 

“I did, thank you. It was lovely. You’ll have to tell Neville how much I like the rose. I’ve been tending to it and it’s started to glitter like he said it would.” Neville had given her a cutting from one of Professor Spout’s rose bushes. The bud would last for a year, he’d said, if she used magical fertilizer on it. 

“Oh I'm glad you liked it. I listened to each rose bud before he chose one. That one’s aurora was the friendliest. Though I’d exercise caution with the fertilizer he gave you if I were you.” 

“Oh, what’s wrong with it?” She regretted the question almost as soon as it left her lips. 

“I’d prefer not to get into it now. But I'll send you some of my father’s research. After reading that I'm sure you’ll understand.” 

“Of course.” She’d learned by now it was easier to accept Luna’s suggestions at face value rather than fight them. Plus the sentiment behind them was always very pure. 

“Why isn’t Neville in Hogsmeade today?” She wasn’t sure if Neville and Luna were dating but they spent almost all of their free time together and alternated eating at each other’s tables in the Great Hall. 

“Oh he’s with his Gran at Pish Posh & Pickles for breakfast. He’ll meet me later.” 

“Great! Maybe we can all visit Aberforth after we finish our shopping? I’d like to check in on him and I know Neville worries about him.” 

“That’s a wonderful idea.” She pulled out a fake galleon, whispered a charm, and sent a message. 

“Is that one of the DA coins?” 

“Yes. I adjusted them so that we could send each other short messages. It’s very convenient.” 

They wandered around Hogsmeade. Hermione enjoyed visiting Hogsmeade with Harry and Ron very much, but they spent far too much time in Zonko’s and the Quidditch shop for her taste. Luna was happy to spend an hour helping her pick out a new quill. She’d decided to buy herself a self-inking one. She’d gotten so used to using pens while they were camping that using a quill and ink had become very tedious. But regular ballpoint pens didn’t work very well on parchment. Therefor she opted for a self-inking one akin to a muggle fountain pen. 

They spent plenty of time in Honeydukes and visited the muggle bookshop that had opened up. Luna was very intrigued and Hermione recommended several books which Luna had bought enthusiastically. On their way to the Hog’s Head Hermione told her about _The Taming of the Shrew_ and _The Lord of the Rings._

“Has Harry read this ring book?” Luna asked. 

“I’m not sure. Maybe. It’s a fairly popular muggle book.” 

“Do you know if the author was a wizard? Maybe it’s a pen name?” 

“I don’t know, why?” 

“The ring just sounds an awful lot like a horcrux.” 

Hermione was flabbergasted. She’d read the series the summer before Sixth Year and couldn’t believe she hadn’t once in the last two years put the similarities between the two concepts together. You could always count on Luna to make you think. 

They entered the dusty pub and waved to Aberforth who looked flustered. The pub was very full, mostly with odd company and Eighth Years. 

“I can’t believe we’re going to have to wait for a table at the Hog’s Head!” Hermione scanned the room and noticed that there weren’t any empty spaces. 

“Nonsense! We can sit with Draco.” Luna had already started flitting off away from her. Hermione jogged to catch up with her before even registering what Luna had said. Sure enough, Luna stopped in front of a table in the corner where Draco Malfoy was swirling his drink. He looked up at Luna and smiled and then, making eye contact with Hermione, looked back down at his drink. 

Luna kissed Malfoy’s cheek and pulled out a chair without even asking Malfoy if they were welcome. He didn’t seem to object though. Hermione stood, flabbergasted, not sure where to sit as the table only had two chairs. 

Malfoy looked at her and seemed to realize she didn’t have anywhere to sit. He cleared his throat and turned to the table next to them, “Are you expecting anyone else?” The gruff wizard at the table narrowed his eyes at Malfoy and shook his head. Malfoy summoned the stool over and motioned for Hermione to sit. Her legs moved without her permission and she found herself sitting down. 

Aberforth came over and took their order. Moments later Hermione was sipping on a huge mug of butterbeer and Luna was drinking some clear liquid Hermione didn’t recognize. Though it was on ice it was steaming in ringlets. 

“...your mother received the fertilizer samples I asked Cruxley to send her? He was ever so horrified she was still using the Boom stuff.” Luna was talking to Malfoy like an old friend. 

“I’m not sure. I haven’t heard from her this week. But I'm sure she is very grateful for your assistance. She always comments on your thoughtfulness. She mentioned in her last letter that the Peace Lilies you sent are thriving.” 

“Oh I'm so glad.” Luna positively beamed. “They need so much positive encouragement and I must admit I was worried they wouldn’t survive. After all, my father wasn’t able to help them along much after I left last year.” 

Malfoy’s eyes hardened and he took a long swig from his drink. “Well you needn’t’ve worried. And she would be thrilled if you came to visit over Christmas break. Of course, Longbottom would be more than welcome as well. We have plenty of room as you remember so feel free to stay the night.” 

“We would love that. Neville has been researching her concern about the fern. He thinks he knows why it’s stopped glowing at the full moon. He just needs a cutting to be sure and he can brew up a potion and administer it the next time we visit. 

“I’ll ask her to send one along next time I write.” 

Hermione inspected her drink. Was it drugged? Not only did Luna seem to be on friendly terms with Malfoy and his mother, but it sounded like both she and Neville had visited the Malfoy manner. She gaped between the two of them. 

Malfoy took pity on her confusion. “Despite her experiences with my family, Luna was gracious enough to write to me last summer when I was... Anyway, she’s been a good friend to me and kept my mother company while I was... away. Longbottom has helped my mother nurse her gardens back to their former glory. After last year...” He drained his glass and raised it at the bar, getting Aberforth’s attention. “Anyway, she wasn’t able to care for them as well as she usually does...” he lowered is voice so low she almost didn’t her him mutter “what with our _houseguests._ ” 

“Oh.” Hermione was reeling from this information and honestly didn’t know how to respond. “Well if there’s anyone who...” she settled on “Lune and Neville are the best.” 

He nodded and Luna waved at someone that Hermione couldn’t see. Moments later Neville had bounded and given she and Luna hugs and shaken Malfoy’s and. 

“How is your gran?” 

“Good. She says hello. I promised I'd walk her up to the castle so I could show her the greenhouses.” 

“Oh I'd love to see her. I’ll walk back with you.” Luna got up and kissed Malfoy’s cheek and hugged Hermione. “Thanks for a lovely day. I’ll see you at dinner?” 

“Er, okay” 

“See ya!” Neville called, pulling Luna by the hand away from the table. 

* * *

**Draco**

Hermione and Draco watched Neville and Luna bound out of the pub waving to Aberforth as they left. 

“Uh... I should go.” Hermione scooted her chair back. 

“I mean, you can stay. At least until you finish your drink.” 

Hermione looked at her barely touched mug. She looked up at him, eyes wide and questioning. 

“Seriously. I won’t bite.” 

She scooted back towards the table and took a long chug. He didn’t even know Hermione Granger could chug. She set the heavy glass mug down on the table. 

He’d had to admit she’d been warm to him the entire semester, with the exception of “the situation” in Group. Their introduction exercise had gone smoothly. Perhaps shorter than some of the others and more formal, but generally fine. He’d been worried, but she’d been gracious after he’d owled her his questionnaire. 

“So, you and Luna are pretty chummy?” 

“Yeah she was very kind to my mother while I was in Azkaban.” 

“She is very special.” 

“Yes, I didn’t expect... Obviously I was shocked that she’d want anything to do with me after being... Well, like you said she’s very special.” 

Hermione fiddled with her hair and drained her mug as the bartender brought Draco his next drink. 

“Another?” the bartender asked Hermione. She looked wide eyed at Draco. He rolled his eyes. “Yes. Put her two and Luna’s on my tab.” 

“Oh, that’s not necessary.” She fiddled with her bag, looking for her change purse. 

“Nonsense. I insist.” The bartender grumbled away. “One drink for every time I've called you a rude name.” 

Her hands stilled. She stared at him. Then, all of a sudden, she snorted and bent over laughing hysterically. 

“What?” 

“I just... You’re Malfoy. And... I’m... Me. And now you’re making a joke about calling me a mudblood. And we’re just sitting here drinking. I just...” she muttered something about pigs flying. 

“Well, to new beginnings.” He raised his glass of firewhiskey. She clinked her empty mug against his. 

The bartender brought her next mug of butterbeer. She took a long sip. 

“So, where’s the rest of the Golden Trio” today. 

She set her drink down heavily. Foam covered her upper lip. 

“Oh, they have detention.” 

Draco laughed. “Only a month in. That must be a record.” 

“Well you know Harry... He never could keep a low profile...” 

Draco couldn’t help but laugh. “Not... necessarily his strong suit. 

They each took a long drink. 

“what are you drinking?” She asked him curiously 

“Firewhiskey...” 

She wrinkled her nose. 

“You don’t like it?” 

“It burns my nose.” 

“You have to add the orange slice.” He brandished the drink at her. “Try it.” She looked terrified. “I mean I didn’t poison it.” 

She took the glass and took a sip. 

“Oh! It’s zesty!” 

He laughed. 

They both drank and fiddled with their clothes. 

“Granger...” Sher looked up at him from under her lashes. “I just... I wanted to say... I’m... I’m sorry about what happened in Group. I... I didn’t know about your parents. I promise, I wasn’t trying to... Anyway, I didn’t mean anything by it.” 

Her eyes widened. “Oh. Well, thank you.” 

She continued sipping on her drink. He tried to channel the meditation he’d managed in his sessions with Mandy. It didn’t work. 

“So... Is Boot the worst or what?” 

She snorted the sip she was taking and it took several coughs for her to get her breath back. 

They spent the next thirty minutes abusing their classmates. 

The bartender came back over. “Another round?” He stroked Hermione’s shoulder and glared at. Draco. 

Draco asked for another. The bartender eyed Hermione. 

“I’ll have whatever he’s having.” She giggled. 

The bartender rolled his eyes and shuffled off. 

She avoided his gaze. 

“So. Are you and Weasley...?” 

She blushed. ” Oh, he... I mean.. We...” The bartender brought their next round. She took a long sip and giggled again, then sighed exasperatedly. “Oh I don't’ know.” 

How could she not know? Until he’d found out she went to the Slug Club Christmas Party with McClaggen, he’d assumed she’d been with Weasley ever since after she’d dumped Krum. Granger and Krum had been all Pansy and the other Slytherin girls could talk about Fourth Year. And of course he’d heard all about their “breakup” from the Greengrass sisters who knew his mother. And didn't she and Weasley they spend the entire year in a tent together? Weasley certainly stared at her enough. She could certainly do better, he thought. But who was he to tell her how to live her life? 

She took another gigantic sip and hiccupped. Uh oh. Was Granger drunk? 

“Well, you shouldn’t have to wonder.” 

“I don’t think it’s any of your business,” she slurred. _Definitely drunk_. She took another sip and fished out the cherry the bartender had added for her. “Why do you think Mandy is so _happy_ all the time?” 

He laughed “I don’t know. Maybe Sprout gives her access to the ‘special’ greenhouse.” 

Hermione giggled and almost fell off her stool. He grabbed her shoulder to steady her. 

Her eyes went wide again and they met his. She drained the glass and looked at her watch. 

“Oh! I need to go! I’m supposed to meet Rarry and Hon! Harry and Ron, I mean.” She stood up suddenly, swaying and bumping the table. She set her hands on the table, blinked several times and pulled herself up deliberately. She looked at him with glassy eyes and bit back a smile before poking him in the shoulder. “You’re so.... _tense_.” she giggled and poked him again. 

Okay. It was time to go. He grabbed her bag, put his hand resolutely on her shoulder and guided her to the bar where he dumped out several galleons and made eye contact with the bartender. 

He went to grab them and Hermione grabbed his hand. “Yerr the best Alberferth.” She winked at him. 

He gave Draco a murderous glare. “Ariana will check with the Fat Lady to ensure that she makes it back to the Gryffindor Common Room in a decent state.” 

Draco didn’t know who Ariana was but understood the threat all the same. He nodded and lead her out into the cool October air. 

“Let’s head back up to the castle. You’ve had a lot to drink” 

She whipped off her scarf. “It’s so _nice_ out. I love the winter.” 

“Yeah okay, Hogwarts is this way.” A group of Fourth Year girls were eyeing them suspiciously and whispering to themselves. He pushed her towards the path up to Hogwarts. 

“Are all the Malfoys named after stars?” 

“The Blacks.” He corrected her. She twirled ahead of him and stumbled. “It’s a Black family tradition.” 

She gave him a mockingly serious face. “Oh of course. The most Noble and Ancient House of Black,” she said sticking her nose in the air in a mockingly pretentious voice. 

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, something like that.” They walked most of the way back without talking but she hummed a tune he didn’t recognize. 

Just before they got to the entrance of the castle she stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed at her bag which he was still carrying. She rummaged around in it and produced a bag from Honeydukes. She produced a sugar quill and started sucking on it. “Want one?” 

“No thanks, I have my own.” He motioned to the bag of candy he’d bought. 

“But they’re bublerry! _Blueberry_!” 

“I’ll pass. I'd prefer not to turn my mouth blue.” 

“ _so serious”_

They entered the courtyard and he was starting to get concerned. he wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with her. But she was so obviously drunk that he was worried other people would think he’d done something to her. 

“GINNY!” Hermione shrieked and ran off to the right. She attacked Weaslette in an aggressive hug. The other Seventh Years she was sitting with looked shocked and amused. Draco approached cautiously and held out Hermione’s bag to Weaslette. She gave him a searching expression but took the bag. 

“Come on, let’s get you back up to Gryffindor Tower.” Ginny stroked Hermione’s hair and put an arm around her, leading her into the castle. 

Hermione turned back tossed him a chocolate frog. “Cheers Draco!” He caught it. 

The Gryffindor Seventh Years turned to glare at him. 

“Oh fuck off.” He grumbled at them and walked away. 

When he got back to the Slytherin Common Room he shoved the bag of Honeydukes sweets into a Second-Year girl’s hands as she made her way towards the girls dormitories. “Take that up to Parkinson.” She squeaked and ran down the hall to the girl’s dorms. 

He settled in a chair next to Theo who was already asleep. He vanished the empty bottle of Firewhiskey. 

He set his feet on the coffee table and unwrapped the Chocolate Frog and checked the card. It was granger. Of fucking course she was on a Chocolate Frog card. 


	6. The Hermione Granger Dating Game

**Author’s Note:**

I don’t own Harry Potter. Otherwise we’d have gotten a background story on Peeves.

* * *

**Chapter 6: The Hermione Granger Dating Game**

* * *

**Sunday, October 4**

**Ron**

Hermione’s surprised shriek woke Ron from his nap. 

“What?” 

“I can’t believe they would... I told them I didn’t want...” She was grumbling, staring incredulously at the letter in her hands. 

“What’s up?” Ginny threw a taffy at Harry who caught it in his mouth. 

“Oh of all the insolent things!” Hermione muttered. 

Ron was annoyed. He had been having a very nice nap. 

“Wha is it ‘ermione” Harry said, his mouth full. 

“It’s nothing.” She looked flustered and annoyed. Her cheeks were bright red. 

“C’mon, what’s up?” Ron asked 

“Oh, never mind. I’ll deal with it later.” She tried to shove the letter in her bag but Ginny was too quick. “Oh, please don’t--” 

“Granger,” Ginny read aloud, “Thank you for the Chocolate Frog.” Ginny gaped at Hermione who hid her face in her hands. “Please do me the-” Ginny squeaked and Hermione turned into the corner of the armchair she sat in. “Please do me honor of returning the attached card with your autograph so that I can add it to my _collection_. DM. P.S. Excellent photo choice.” Ginny cackled and brandished the card at the group. The card turned out to be Hermione’s Chocolate Frog card. 

Hermione groaned. “Oh he's such an ASS.” 

“Who is it from? DM...” Ron’s eyes widened in surprise and horror, “Wait you gave Malfoy a Chocolate Frog with your card in it?” 

“Well I didn’t know it was mine when I gave it to him!” Hermione shot Ginny and Harry a murderous glare as they were both laughing so hard they couldn't breathe. “I didn’t even _know_ I had a Chocolate Frog card!” 

“Course you did – they invited all three of us.” Ron said as he inspected her card. The photo they’d used was old. From Third Year probably. Or Fourth, before her teeth had been shrunk. If he hadn’t been so confused he would have been amused by the state of her hair. It was absolutely mad. 

“Well yes, but I told them I wasn’t interested and I refused to send them a photo. I guess they found one anyway and published it without my permission!” 

Harry and Ginny cackled even harder, frantically opening up all of the other Chocolate Frogs Hermione had brought them back. 

“I will... sue them for this and then _murder_ Malfoy. Or maybe murder him first... Or maybe I should murder Ginny...” Hermione muttered angrily 

“Yes! GOT ONE!” Harry triumphantly held up another card with Hermione’s face on it. 

“Give it here, Harry.” 

“Nuh uh. This is a collector’s item now.” He danced out of Hermione’s grasp. 

“HARRY JAMES POTTER you give me that card right this instant!” 

Ginny investigated it. “No! You’ll just burn it or something.” 

“ _of course I will._ It’s humiliating!” 

“Hermione Jean Granger – The _fairest_ of the brave ‘Golden Trio,’ and Brightest Witch of Our Age. Known for her heroic acts during the Second Wizarding War and assistance in the defeat of He Who Must Not Be Named. In her spare time, she enjoys reading and _knitting_...” Ginny was doubled over with laughter now, trying desperately to gasp out the final lines of the card. “...Granger currently attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where she is reportedly SINGLE and accepting propositions of courtship.” Ginny practically sang the last line. 

“Ughhhhhhhhh.” Hermione groaned. “Do you think a lot of people got it?” 

Harry laughed “Ohhhhh yeah. We have three in our batch alone. Looks like you’re more popular than Dumbledore!” 

Hermione banged her head on the book she’d been reading. 

Ron inspected the letter from Malfoy wearily. Where did he get off poking fun at her this way? Harry had said he didn’t know about her parents and the whole thing in Group was just a misunderstanding but he still didn’t trust him. He’d been furious at Luna and Neville for abandoning her with Malfoy in Hogsmeade when Ginny had practically carried her drunkenly through the portrait hole. 

Also who did they think they were, telling the world Hermione was single? That’s not anyone’s business. And besides. If she was going to be with anyone... 

He angrily crossed his arms. Ginny and Harry were finding this far too amusing. 

The door to the Common Room burst open and Dean and Seamus burst in laughing hysterically. 

“Oi Hermione, want to sign our cards?” Dean laughed 

She cursed at them all and stormed off to the girls dormitories. 

“Can I hand you my dating application now or would you prefer I owled it officially?” Seamus called after her. She shot him a rude hand gesture. 

“Lay off her” Ron spat angrily. 

“Oh come on, Ron, it’s hilarious.” Ginny chucked a card at him. 

“Shove it, Gin.” He got up and stormed out of the Common Room. 

He wandered around the castle fuming. He absentmindedly made his way to the corridor where Flitwick had preserved a small piece of Fred and George’s portable swamp from Fifth Year. Sometimes he liked to come here and think. 

But apparently he wasn’t the only one. A girl with dark hair was sitting next to it, her head in her arms, sobbing silently. 

Never a fan of interacting with weepy girls, he went to turn around quietly. Unfortunately his shoe squeaked and the girl looked up. 

Pansy Parkinson gasped and jumped off, running in the opposite direction. 

* * *

**Wednesday, October 7**

**Group**

Mandy had noticed a shift in the Group sessions. The students seemed more relaxed and open. Even the individual sessions were going well. There were still a handful of students who wouldn’t cooperate. Draco still hadn’t said a word. Nor would Pansy. Ron flat out refused to talk about anything of importance. But overall, it was better than she could have hoped for. It was a slow process, after all. 

Now that most of the students seemed more comfortable with her and the sessions, she could move on to the next phase which involved more difficult discussion topics. She was concerned about division between Slytherin and the other three houses. Obviously there were reasons the three houses were wary of the Slytherins but she wanted them to be able to move past that. So few of the Slytherins had returned (especially the older students), she was concerned about their well-being. Community is important. 

The bell rang and everyone settled in. Most everyone seemed to be in good spirits. She supposed the Hogsmeade weekend had helped everyone loosen up. She knew the Eighth Years were allowed to leave the school at their leisure as long as they returned each night by curfew, but it didn’t seem like many had taken advantage of it. 

“Good morning everyone! Before we get started with this week’s topic, is there anything anyone would like to share?” 

Terry Boot raised his hand. “Yes, Terry?” 

“I would just like to congratulate Granger on her recent publicity and offer my assistance in helping her answer her correspondence.” He winked at Hermione and she glowered at him. 

Practically the entire group succumbed to fits of giggles. She was clearly missing something, Mandy thought to herself. She tried to stay out of the school gossip as she didn’t want it to interfere with their sessions. 

“Is it too late to apply?” Blaise asked derisively. 

Hermione grabbed her bag and stormed out of the room. Well, that was unexpected. 

“Alright everyone, settle down.” The giggles died down subtly. “I don’t know what made Ms. Granger so upset as I don't’ subscribe to the school gossip, but it’s clear that he was very affected by it. I would encourage you to all be more sensitive in the future.” 

A few people shuffled uncomfortably. 

“Moving on. As you’ll recall, I asked each of you to consider words of affirmation and how they affect your life and attitudes.” 

A few people talked about how they were trying to incorporate more compliments into their day to day lives. 

“I’m so glad you feel that way. For today’s discussion, we will be complimenting each other.” 

A few uncomfortable glances were shared. 

“I have all of your names in this hat. I will draw names randomly and you will compliment that person on something. It could be small or large, just as long as it’s from the heart. Do I have a volunteer to start?” Susan Bones raised her hand. “Thank you, Susan. Let’s see...” she drew a name. “Padma.” 

“Padma, you are always so helpful and you always make time to help everyone study if they need it.” 

“Thank you, Susan. Now Padma, please compliment...” she drew a name “Dean.” 

And so it went on. She was relatively surprised at how well it went. There was a slightly tense moment when it was Harry’s turn to compliment Draco, but it ended up fine. 

“Alright, thank you Neville. Ron, please compliment...” she drew one of the few names left. “Pansy.” 

Ron looked shocked. “Erm......” He stared at his feet, clearly thinking hard. “Pansy...” 

Pansy stood up and ran out of the room. Ron looked horrified. 

Another one bites the dust, Mandy thought sadly. 

When they were finished she thanked everyone for their participation. 

“Before I open up the circle for general discussion, I wanted to let you know about a project I'm working on. The Headmistress has asked for your help. In order to promote inter-house unity, she has approved the creation of an all-student lounge.” There were some murmurs. 

“As the oldest and most respected students in the school, you are perfectly positioned to help. I will randomly select one student from each house to participate in the brainstorming for the features of the room. You’ll work together and report the progress to me. The room will be ready after the winter break.” 

She waved her wand and the papers she’d been using changed colors to signify each of the four houses. 

“From Gryffindor...” she plucked a red paper. “Neville!” He looked pleased, she thought. 

“From Ravenclaw... Padma!” Padma looked surprised but smiled. Terry Boot crossed his arms.\ 

“From Hufflepuff... Susan!” Susan nodded. 

“and from Slytherin...Draco!” 

There was anxious murmuring. Draco did not look pleased. Neville shot a friendly smile at Draco who rolled his eyes and also stormed out of the room. 

Well, Mandy thought, she’d honestly been surprised they hadn’t had at least one student storm out each week. Guess the three today made up for lost time. 

* * *

**Draco**

Draco stormed down the hall towards the Charms classroom. He didn’t really have anywhere else to go. He could at least start on his Potions essay. 

He kicked a rubbish bin and glared at a Third Year who was coming back from the bathroom. The girl looked terrified he felt guilty. 

_“Honestly, Draco, if you want people to stop being scared of you, you should stop acting so menacing” Pansy had told him just last night._

His anger had started to ebb away. It’s not like she had asked him to do something truly terrible. Just... why him? Maybe he could trade with Blaise. He’d love that. 

He entered the Charms room and Hermione was already there. She had enchanted a small piece of paper into a little white bird and was watching it fly around. 

“Hey,” he muttered and went to his seat. 

“Oh, hello,” she said. 

He could feel her staring at him from across the room. She rummaged in her bag for something and then walked across the room towards him. “Here.” 

It was the Chocolate Frog card. Written in neat cursive was: 

_Sod off._   
_Hermione Granger_

He laughed out loud. “I can’t believe you actually signed it!” 

“Well you looked like you could do with some cheering up,” she shrugged. 

He grunted. 

“I guess I can be thankful I'm not the only one that lost my temper today,” she said. 

“Nope. Pansy too.” 

“Really? I guess it wasn’t a good day for therapy then.” 

“No, I suppose not.” He put the card in his bag and checked his watch. They had 15 minutes. 

“What got your feathers ruffled?” she asked. 

Draco sighed. “McGonagall wants us to design a lounge that’s open to all houses. Mandy picked someone from each house to be on the committee. It’s me, Susan, Neville, and Padma.” 

“Oh well that doesn’t sound too bad. At least it’s not Terry,” she made a face at him. 

“Yeah that’s true.” 

“You don’t want to be involved?” 

“No.” 

“Why not? It seems like a great way to build inter-house relationships.” 

Draco rolled his eyes. “You sound like Mandy. You were probably one of those people who was excited about the Triwizard Tournament because of the international magical cooperation implications.” 

She looked offended. “Of course I was! That was the whole point!” 

He almost laughed. “Well yeah. But those of us who weren’t insufferable swots were just excited about the fame, glamor, and danger.” 

She looked offended and he found it amusing. He’d always known she was a goody two shoes, but he’d never before realized how endearingly naive she was. 

“Look, Granger. Inter-house unity is all fine and dandy if you’re a Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw. No one wants to associate with the Death Eater house, after all. And of all the Slytherins, I’m the worst of the bunch.” 

“Well,” she frowned, “I don’t think that’s fair.” 

“Not fair? My family is responsible for horrendous acts of violence and vile traditions. And I'm not exactly innocent if you’ll recall.” 

Hermione didn’t say anything but opened her mouth as if to protest. 

“You of all people can’t deny it.” 

He saw her arm twitch, the arm that Bellatrix had marked. 

“Well, you shouldn’t have to bear the weight thousands of years of magical bigotry.” 

“Shouldn’t I though?? 

“Certainly no one reasonable thinks you should be punished for the horrendous sins of your relatives.” 

Draco laughed mirthlessly. “Do you really think that everyone is as noble as you and Potter? They think we’re the same. After all, how could we be any different from the men and women who raised us?” 

She considered him a moment. “Well, I think by now you’d know the difference between stubborn pureblood ideology and outright hatred. The trials were all made public. Anyone who listened to them with half a brain would know you were forced into those situations under pain of death and fear. I’d dare anyone to spend more than five minutes alone with you this year and not realize you’ve changed for the better.” 

His amusement turned to annoyance. This was the problem with Gryffindors. They felt like once _they_ realized something that everyone else should just follow in step simply on principle. But the world wasn’t as black and white as those that dwelled in the Lion’s Den thought it to be. She stared at him indignantly, with her hands on her hips waiting for him to... to what, he thought? Probably to weep and thank her for her forgiveness. Well just because Gryffindors thought they were the saviors of wizard kind didn’t mean that he had to lay down and take their stupid pity. He turned his eyes on her and glared at her. She immediately lost some of her confidence but took a breath and steadied her shoulders and glared back. Fine. If she wanted to fight, he would indulge her. But she should have known by now that Slytherins don’t fight fair. 

“Theo spends all of his free time visiting his father in Azkaban, researching he’s father’s crimes to report to the Ministry, visiting his mother’s grave, or drinking to forget about the rest. He hates his father but can’t write him off because he’s all he has. His father visited his mother’s grave every week to leave flowers. Did you know that? His mother passed away on Christmas Eve. His father was so devastated that Theo had to stay at the Manor for a month because he was so depressed he couldn’t get out of bed. We all pretended to want to sleep in on Christmas morning so that the elves could finish knitting a stocking for him and get all of his presents ready so that he would feel welcome and loved. Each year on Christmas Eve, his father would go through all of the photo albums with Theo and tell him stories about his mother and retell the story of how they met and how he proposed. Now Theo has to leave the flowers every Saturday after visiting his father. And when he gets back goes through his father’s journals, trying to match descriptions to muggle missing persons reports. Then he drinks himself into oblivion. How can you hate a man who was hopelessly devoted to your mother and was always a decent father? But how can you love someone who did unspeakable acts of evil to over a hundred helpless muggles?” He heard her suck in a short breath. She looked like he’d stabbed her. “Theo thinks he was involved with the deaths and tortures of at least 200 muggles, including the bridge and troll incidents. But last weekend he was up late hand making a framed picture of his father and mother on their wedding day that will be approved by Azkaban standards for Christmas.” 

“I... I... don’t...,” Hermione stammered. She looked horror struck. Instead of taking pity on her, he continued, stabbing the knife in further. 

“And Pansy is devastated because her father was her best friend even if he was a horrendous man. He doted on her and was probably the best father out of all of the purebloods I know. She’s a spoiled brat but they shared such a bond. She didn’t even know what his... job was.” He looked up at Hermione to see if anything registered. It did not. “He was in charge of the trafficking efforts. Oh not the Registration Committee,” he said seeing her confusion. “the really valuable prisoners. Prominent muggle borns or blood traitors or particularly... _enticing_ muggles. Mr. Parkinson sold them off to the highest bidder, for whatever purpose desired. That’s the fate you and the Weasleys would have suffered had you ever been caught. Well, caught and detained,” he corrected himself. “Even now she knows about this. She’s disgusted by it, of course. She read the reports of his... conquests, so to speak. She knows he was a despicable human being, but he’s still her father. The same man who read her stories every night. The same man who gave her away at cotillion. The same man who owled her favorite tea once a month because he knew Hogwarts didn’t serve it. She should hate him, surely. Especially considering what he did to women and to the We- Anyway, she should hate his memory. And she does. But mostly I think she just misses her Poppy.” 

Hermione seemed to be lost for words. Her eyes were wide. He twisted the knife. 

“And I don’t think I need to go into detail about my father and his views. He was prepared to kill all of you at the Ministry and he would have. He told me so in his last letter which I received not a fortnight ago. Absolutely no remorse. He never had any remorse for the incident with the Weasley girl either. He thought it was amusing... and disappointing that no one actually died. He was thoroughly embarrassed over my ‘performance’ Sixth Year and still alludes to it in his letters. In fact when you three showed up at the Manor I was... Well, let’s just say he was horrified that I didn’t offer to help Bellatrix torture you.” 

He glared at her. Her eyes had started shining. He knew he should stop. But he hardened his face further and twisted the knife even more. 

“And me? Well, if you don’t count all the times I called you mudblood, all the times I hexed you or taunted you for being muggleborn, all the times I tormented other muggleborns... Well my hands are dirtier than you’d care to admit. I almost killed Katie Bell and your beloved Weasley--” 

“But you meant to--” 

“ _It doesn’t matter_. I _knew_ the chances of those things getting back to Dumbledore were slim to none. I didn’t care. Well, honestly I didn’t want to kill anybody really, but it was more important to save my own skin and that of my mother’s than any other innocent people. I had to plead with the Dark Lord for my life after the Astronomy Tower. Word got back to him that I started to lower my wand. Bellatrix vouched for me and promised she’d teach me the ways. I’ve performed more than enough unforgivable curses to land me a Dementor’s Kiss if that was still on the table. I wasn’t one of the ones like Longbottom that was willing to suffer the Cruciatus instead of practicing on First Years. I knew full well what I was doing. I didn’t like it but I made a choice.” 

She was looking away and he was sure he heard her sniff. 

“Did you know that Snape has been privately tutoring me in Occlumency since the beginning of Fourth Year? When his Dark Mark started to come back he knew that it was only a matter of time. I think he planned on turning me into a double agent like he was. He never got the chance after the Ministry fiasco. I didn’t trust him and never let him help me. But I am a very skilled Occlumens. It’s easy for people like me. I’ve been trained from a young age to mask my emotions. Purebloods – especially Malfoys – don't get the luxury of having the things we want most. We get what’s good for the bloodline. 

“It was easy for Snape to teach me Occlumency*. To put memories and feelings in boxes or on shelves forever and never think of them again. To recall particular memories at will. To create an alternate persona that you bring out just when you need to. Why do you think I was able to adjust to Azkaban so well? The Dark Lord had plans for me. He was having Bellatrix train me to be an assassin. He had plenty of people to threaten and murder messily. But he needed someone that could creep in the shadows and kill in ways that were even more terrifying. And I'd resigned myself to the fate. It wasn’t the future I wanted but I’d never expected to have a say in my future anyway. I would have been instrumental in his European – and eventual World – takeover. He recognized that he wouldn’t be able to win other countries over with the brute force he’d showed in Britain.” 

Far away, he registered that the bell had rung. 

“So, Granger, do you still think we should all be rehabilitated? Do you still think that we’re not like our parents? Do you still think I’m innocent?” 

She sputtered at him. 

“No, of course not,” he spat. “You’re terrified of me.” 

“I'm not _terrified_ ,” she muttered quietly. 

Well you should be,” he growled. 

She squared her shoulders and glared back at him, trying to prove what he could read so plainly on her face. 

Fine. If she was so stubborn then he’d change tactics. 

“Well if you’re not terrified of me, then you’re terrified of your friends. Did you tell them that you said that day in Hogsmeade was the most fun you’ve had recently? I doubt it. Because when all is said and done, you know that the Gryffindor way doesn’t apply to me. Self-righteous bravery won’t do anything for you. You need that Slytherin self-preservation that--” 

The door of the Charms room banged open and students filed in. Hermione squeaked and retreated back to her seat across the room. 

Draco slumped in his seat. He was annoyed their spar had come to an end. 

He glanced over at her under the guise of opening his bag. She looked... sheepish. He smirked to himself smugly. Gryffindors know nothing of self-preservation. He should have never tried his first tactic. But they weren’t hypocrites and he’d called her bluff. 

* * *

**Thursday, October 8**

**Harry**

Dinner was a quiet affair that evening. 

Hermione was mad at Harry for his part in her embarrassing week. He felt a little guilty. It had been just so comical. But, as someone who had had his fair share of mortifying press, he probably should have gone about the goading with a lighter touch. But Ginny brought out the mischievous side in him and they’d let things get away from them. He’d started to apologize in Potions the day before but her hair was wild after a double period and it looked too much like the photo. She hadn’t spoken to him since. She sat across the table from him and uncomfortably close to Ron and had a massive book propped, trying unsuccessfully up to block them both from her view. He bit his lip to keep from smiling as she struggled to stubbornly keep it upright while cutting up her chicken one handed. 

Ron was annoyed at Hermione, for whatever reason Harry had any idea. This was pretty par for the course, though. Ron was rarely ever mad about what he thought he was or at the right person. They both knew this. He’d cool off soon. He suspected it might have something to do with Malfoy but he wasn’t sure. He knew they still hadn’t worked out the situation between them. He was refusing to get involved. It hadn’t helped in Sixth Year when he did try to get involved and hit hadn’t helped when he hadn’t helped either. Though he was happy to see that they’d been more friendly towards each other this year though – before the letter/card incident anyway. They were both so stubborn and they’d work it out eventually. He’d noticed Hermione asking Ron questions about Quidditch or his other various interests and had seemingly finally given up trying to get him to talk about “how he was.” Harry felt that Ron needn't worry about Malfoy. Due to her fame and (though it weirded him out just to admit it) the fact that she’d seemed to grow into some of her features over the last year, she was more popular this year. He’d noticed several boys interested in her this year, but Malfoy wasn’t one of them. If he was being more friendly, Harry suspected it really was because he was just trying not to be a complete asshole. So, Ron sat crowded next to Harry. A group of Fourth Year girls had all wanted to sit together and had forced Ron to move closer to Hermione. He cut up his meal with a carefully subtlety that Harry had never associated with Ron. He suspected it was because Ron was trying not to touch Her. 

Harry himself had decided not to speak to Ron for the rest of the evening. Before breakfast, Dean, Seamus, and Neville had enlarged one of Hermione’s Chocolate Frog cards and were planning on displaying it in the common room that night. Ron had lost his temper when they woke him up to help and set fire to it, completely ruining Harry’s Transfiguration essay in the process and singing his favorite sweater. Hermione had refused to mend it for him and he’d received a severe reprimand from McGonagall. She’d felt it was his fault for leaving it to the last minute and therefore leaving it out so haphazardly after finishing it half past one in the morning. Therefore, Harry kept his eyes trained on his plate and wished that Ginny hadn’t wanted to sit with the girls from her own year for “Girls Night.” He rolled his eyes. Couldn’t they gossip and catch up at night in bed? 

Finally Ron stood up and grunted goodbye. He was off to his session with Mandy, Harry supposed. He tried to smile at Hermione. He’d apologize to her on the way back to Gryffindor tower, he’d decided. 

He tried to fill the time by straining to hear what Ginny and her friends were talking about. One of the girls was blabbering about new hair potion samples she’d received with a recent order and promised to distribute them that night. Another girl was asking Ginny to help her pick out a new outfit from a catalog for her to wear on a date next Hogsmeade weekend. Harry was always astonished to hear her participating in what Hermione always called “girl talk.” Hermione had never really been interested in those subjects. He’d always assumed Ginny would be that way too, since she’d grown up with brothers. Though Ginny was always better about it than people like Parvati and Lavender had, she’d scolded him for assuming that Hermione didn’t want to act more girly. 

“Harry, I love you, I really do but you’re such a dolt. Remember when it took you lot three and a half years to realize she was a girl?” She had hissed angrily at him when he’d compared the two women in his life. “Well, just because she was unlucky enough to be stuck with you unfortunate trolls for seven years doesn’t mean she couldn’t also do with some good girl time. And how dare you assume that all that stuff is beneath me. Just because I don’t wax poetic about mascaras and concealers and curling charms doesn’t mean I don’t care about them. I just choose not to bore you with a subject I know you don’t give a flobberworm’s brain about. And maybe Hermione figured that out when she was 11 while you two idiots were trying to copy her homework. And while we’re at it, it’s incredibly Ron-like to assume that all girls are the same. You’re better than that and when you’re ready to apologize I'll be in the Library.” She’d stormed out of the Great Hall angrily before he’d even realized what had happened. He had, indeed, apologized, especially because it was the first time she’d told him she loved him and he definitely wanted to hear it again, and not when she was reprimanding him. 

Hermione was struggling to turn a page and drink at the same time. He steadied her book from across the table and she glared at him. 

He thought back on their friendship and vowed to try to be a better friend this year. He certainly owed her that, given that she always seemed to know exactly what he needed. His short time with Ginny had taught him nothing other than how very little he knew about women. He supposed it had been a hard seven years for Hermione with he and Ron as his best friends. And also, for once he had absolutely nothing dark and dangerous to distract him. 

Lost in his thoughts he looked up to find that Hermione had abandoned the table and was already almost out of the room. 

He jogged to meet up with her as she reached the staircase. 

“Hermione! Wait up!” he gasped, catching his breath. She ignored him and he struggled to keep up even though his legs were much longer. “C’mon Hermione!” 

She stopped and turned around suddenly and he had to dodge out of the way not to run into her. 

“What?” 

“I was just... I wanted to apologize.” 

She said nothing but looked at him almost bored. 

Ugh. She was going to make him spell it out. “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about the card. It was just so funny--” 

She’d growled and turned back around. He jogged after her and reached out for her wrist. 

“Harry, I'd like to get back to my room. I’m very tired and I have a lot to do. And this book is very heavy.” 

He reached out to take it. “I’ll carry it for you. Anyway, I’m sorry. I just... I’m sorry about the whole thing. I... well I can’t promise I'll never bring it up again, but I am sorry for not realizing when we took it past where you were okay with it.” He thought that _maybe_ he saw her glare softening a tad. “Ginny always tells me I'm shit at apologizing. Please talk to me again? I’ll carry all your bloody books if you want.” He shot her a nervous smile. 

She rolled her eyes and reached out to brush off his shoulder. “Oh Harry, at least after all this time you haven’t changed. You're sweet in your own way. Thank you for apologizing. I was embarrassed and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” 

He sighed with relief and they headed off. 

“Do you happen to know why Ronald is angry with me this time?” 

Harry grimaced. “I think...” he shot her a nervous glance. “And don’t shoot the messenger. I _think_ it has something to do with you waltzing around with Malfoy in Hogsmeade.” 

As he expected she stopped and balked at him. 

“Oh that stupid boy. He, unfortunately, has _not_ changed.” Harry said nothing. “You’d think he’d learned _nothing_ from Sixth Year.” 

“What is going on with you two?” he asked against his better judgement. 

She scoffed, “yeah, we’re not going there.” 

“Well then what’s the deal with Malfoy? How did you end up drinking with him?” 

She glared at him. “We’re not talking about him either.” 

“Well, Ginny has told me I should try asking you more about your feelings, or something like that. So I think you should tell me about one of them.” 

The look of disgust on her face confirmed his suspicion that Ginny was full of it, at least on this one. After two flights of stairs she finally sighed. 

“We weren’t hanging out. We were abandoned together. Luna ran off with Neville and left the two of us. He invited me to stay for the rest of my drink. And... we didn’t have a terrible time.” 

She described the afternoon and the curious nature of Malfoy and Luna’s friendship. Despite her initial annoyance she did seem to seem relieved to talk about it. 

“So are you two friends now?” He asked curiously, desperately hoping that she didn’t like him. 

She scoffed, “no. Hardly He’s the same prat he’s always been. I think I just caught him in a rare good mood. But yesterday proved...” she mumbled something about Charms. 

“Has he done something to you?” 

“Oh no, it’s fine Harry. I just thought after all he’d been through he’d want to turn over a new leaf. But he’s the same closed off Slytherin we’ve always known.” 

Harry was vaguely curious, especially since he hadn’t had a chance to tell her about his conversation with Malfoy. But he could sense she was done talking about it so he let it go. They climbed the last flight in silence. 

“Harry, how did Professor Snape go about teaching you Occlumency?” 

He was so shocked he almost stopped walking. “Why?” 

“I’m just curious. What method did he use?” 

“Method?” 

“Yes. Meditation? Or did he use the box technique?” 

“Errr.... Nothing like that. He just told me to close my mind and then set about attacking it.” 

“Yes, but how exactly did he teach you to close your mind?” 

“He didn’t, Hermione. That’s why I never was any good at it.” 

She looked flabbergasted and annoyed. 

“Look, Hermione, it was a disaster and I'd really like to not get into an argument about how I never really tried with that now that we’ve made up.” 

She stopped before the portrait hole. “That’s not what I meant. I’ve... been reading up on Occlumency and I don’t think Professor Snape actually gave you a fair shot. You can’t just ask someone to close their mind. It’s like expecting someone to calm down when you tell them to calm down.” Harry understood this one. He’d learned about this in the first month after the war during his first tiff with Ginny. 

“So... you’re saying that there are actual methods to learning that? Not just sheer force of will?” 

“Yes, there are _dozens_ of books in the Library about it. I can’t believe I didn’t think to look into it Fifth Year. I just assumed that you weren’t taking it seriously and that’s why it never worked.” 

Harry tried not to be offended. It was true that he hadn’t really _tried_ to make an effort. 

“I mean, I didn’t really try that hard. And it never would have worked anyway. There was too much history between me and Snape.” 

She scoffed. “ _History_? You had no history with him. _He_ had history with _your father_ which is hardly an excuse for him to treat you poorly for six years.” 

They stepped through the portrait hole. 

“Come on, Hermione. You saw the memories too. You know how he felt about... my parents. And it’s not like I ever made things easier.” 

She was angry again. “It’s no excuse! He was horrid to you from the first day before you’d even done anything!” 

“Well, we didn’t have a perfect relationship but he did so much for the Order I guess I'm just not mad anymore.” 

“HOW?!” Her voice was raised and her cheeks were red. 

“I don’t know. I guess I'm just not.” He shrugged. 

She angrily grabbed her book from him and stormed up to the girl’s dormitories, leaving Harry confused in the Common Room. 

* * *

**Author’s Note**

* See “All the Wrong Things” and “The Auction” by LovesBitca8 for interesting theories on Occlumency. That’s where this is inspired from. Two of my favorite Dramione fics! Check it out if you haven’t already.


	7. It’s Easy - Just Get Over It

**Author’s Note**

I don’t own Harry Potter. Otherwise the shoe tying scene wouldn’t have happened.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Just Get Over It**

* * *

**Friday, October 9**

**Ron**

For the first time, Ron had chatted with Mandy about things of real substance. He’d been in a mood ever since Saturday when Hermione had come back from drinking with Malfoy. It had only gotten worse throughout the week and he was at the breaking point when he’d gone to see her last night. He wasn’t sure what had made him open up. 

_“And why did that make you upset?” Mandy had asked him about the whole situation._

_“Because if anyone should be making fun of her it should be me!” He’d blurted out, his mouth moving before he could stop it or process the words._

He’d noticed a definite increase in Hermione’s popularity since the beginning of the term. He supposed it had to do with her being a war hero and all that. But he had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with her looks as well. He’d noticed that the popularity wasn’t just with girls that had typically snubbed her in years before. Many of the boys in Eighth Year had been noticeably friendlier to her, especially those that had stayed behind in the battle. 

He’d always thought she was pretty. Well, that wasn’t entirely truthful. She had been right in Fourth Year when she accused him of not realizing she was a girl. It wasn’t about her teeth or hair or the fancy dress she’d worn to the Yule Ball. He’d honestly just never considered it. But once he’d noticed it, he couldn’t unsee it. She was pretty in a different way. She didn’t flaunt it. And it wasn’t in one of those “she doesn’t know she’s beautiful ways” that the singers on his mum’s wireless were always going on about. She just didn’t care. She was who she was and she didn’t feel like trying to be anyone else, a feat at which Ron had been trying and failing at for all the years of his life. Everything about her was warm and whenever he was around her he felt like he was coming home. 

He remembered seeing her for the first time in the Forest of Dean after he’d come back. He’d dreamed about her every night but she was so much more beautiful in real life, even covered in dirt, hair a mad mess, and her face screwed up in anger. 

And this year she was carrying herself differently. She was relaxed, or at least as relaxed as he’d ever known Hermione Granger to be. He suspected not having one third of the weight of the world on her shoulders helped. So did not having to worry about himself or Harry, he also thought. She laughed easier and was generally more friendly. He was not surprised that she’d started to catch the attention of more boys. The only ones he’d ever had to compete with were Krum and McClaggen. Who knew what she saw in Krum? What could they have possibly had in common? He hadn’t dared ever bring it up because it was a volcanic fight just waiting to happen. It made him angry too. What had he been playing at, asking a girl so much younger out? Ginny had confided in him that her parents had never approved of Krum anyway. She was certainly the type to want her parents to like her boyfriend. And McClaggen was just an ass. He’d chased after almost every girl in the school. His blatant disregard for her comfort and boundaries was enough to earn him a strong hex. Plus there was his awful personality. 

And now there was Malfoy. Of all the people he’d thought he might have to compete with, the git who had called her a mudblood on multiple occasions and saw her be tortured was not the one he’d been worried about. She’d been so... giddy when Ginny had dragged her into the Common Room. And it’d been all “Malfoy this” and “Malfoy that” until she’d passed out. And that stupid note. The nerve of him. 

“Hello? Earth to Ron?” Someone waved a hand in front of his face. 

“Hm? What?” 

“Do you still need help with your Charms project?” Hermione was asking him 

“Oh, yes.” 

“Well walk with me to Mandy’s. We can talk about it on the way and then when I'm back we can get to work on it.” 

“But it’s Friday night!” 

She rolled her eyes. “ _Fine_. We can work on it on Sunday.” 

“Thanks, Hermione.” 

“Alright, well I'm off. See you guys later.” 

Harry and Ginny waved goodbye to her. 

“Er, I'll still walk you.” He stumbled out of the chair and hurried after her. 

“Oh, well thanks, Ron.” 

They were both quiet for a long while. He’d been mad at her all week so they hadn’t really spoken since Saturday morning. She broke the silence first, speaking softly in a very “un-Hermione” voice. 

“You know nothing happened with Malfoy right? Luna and Neville ditched me with him. He just walked me back up to the castle. I was... a little inebriated, as you remember.” 

“Oh. Er. Well. Yeah, that’s your business.” 

She sighed heavily, “Well, yes, Ron it really isn’t considering that we’ve never even been able to have a conversation about what’s going on with us.” 

He balked. She wanted to do this _now_? 

They had both stopped walking. He didn’t know what to say and stayed silent, staring at his feet. 

“ _FINE_.” She wheeled around. “If you want to do it like Sixth Year, that’s fine but don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face again.” 

“I thought you said there wasn’t anything going on with Malfoy!” 

“THERE ISN’T! AND YOU’RE RIGHT, IT ISN’T ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS!” She roared turning back around to face him. 

“Well what do you want from me then?” Why did she make him so irrationally angry? 

“What do I want? Really, Ron?” she threw her hands up in the air. 

“Yes, I never know with you.” 

“I _WANT_...” She was seething, breathing heavily. She closed the gap so they were only a step apart. “I want you to _make_ it your business.” 

Oh. _Oh._ He didn’t know why he was surprised. She had kissed him on multiple occasions. It had certainly seemed like she’d enjoyed it but he couldn’t quite believe that she’d really want anything to do with him in that way. Certainly she saw him as a friend... A friend that she snogged a few times over the summer. And on her birthday... that had just been a thank you kiss right? She was always so business like with him. 

“What is it _you_ want Ronald?” She had her hands crossed across her chest and was waiting expectantly. 

“Uh...” 

If he was being honest, he wanted nothing more than for them to be together. But, he was scared. He didn’t know of what. Scared that she wouldn’t like him as much as he liked her. Scared that it would be a total disaster. Scared that he’d be a bad boyfriend. Scared that he’d be bad at the other stuff. Scared that she’d break his heart. Scared that she’d break his. Scared that they’d never be able to be friends again. 

She was looking at him and tapping her foot. 

He opened his mouth and closed it again. He knew what she wanted him to say. He knew what he wanted to say. But he just couldn’t make the words come out. 

“Hmph. Fine, Ronald.” She turned on her heel and marched away. 

He backed up against the wall and banged the back of his head on the wall. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” 

* * *

**Draco**

After the sixth session with Mandy and not speaking more than hellos and goodbyes, even Draco’s resolve was starting to dwindle. It was going to be a long year. 

Could it really hurt that bad to just chat with her... a small voice inside him said. He’d never been to America. Maybe they could just talk about that. He didn’t have to say anything about his feelings... 

_No. Don’t let your resolve falter._

“Thank you, Draco, that’s it for today,” Mandy said sweetly. How was she still so cheerful? This had to be as boring for her as it was for him. 

He muttered his goodnight and headed out the door. 

Hermione was sitting on the bench looking at the ground. He noticed her eyes were red. She looked up and they made eye contact for the first time since their conversation in Charms. He gave her a single nod before turning down the hall. 

He rounded the corridor to see Weasley sitting on the floor banging his head against the wall. He opened his eyes as Draco passed by and glared at him. Draco ignored him but didn’t think it could be a coincidence that both he and Granger looked equally miserable. _Trouble in paradise_ , he thought. 

He made his way back to the Slytherin Common Room. He slumped down in the seat next to Pansy. She smiled weakly at him. 

“How was Mandy?” 

“Peachy,” he said rolling his eyes. 

“Still doing the strong and silent routine?” 

“Hmph. 

“You know they say talking about your emotions will make it better” she lilted sarcastically. 

“Yeah and how’s that working out for you?” he rolled his eyes. 

“Well I’m highly evolved, you see.” 

“Oh and is that why you’re still running away from Weasley?” 

She glared at him. 

“I saw him sulking in the hallway on my way back. Granger looked pretty miserable too.” 

She ignored him. 

“Look, Pansy,” he sat up to look at her. She avoided his gaze. He put his hand on hers. “I’m the last one who should be giving advice. But maybe you should talk to him.” 

“And say what?” she scoffed. 

“I dunno. Tell him.” 

“And what good could that possibly do?” 

“I dunno. Best thing, he tells you what the rest of us have already been trying to convince you and you feel better. Worst thing, he says what you expect and you get you get to keep feeling guilty. The way I see it, it’s a win-win.” 

She glared at him. 

“Seriously, Pansy. You know it’s not your fault.” 

She stood up to walk away. 

“You could always just try to get over it instead of feeling sorry for yourself,” he called after her. 

She turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? And how’s that working out for _you_?” 

_Yeah, yeah. Point taken._

* * *

**Hermione**

Hermione stormed away from Ron. The nerve of him. He knew exactly how she felt. He was either no longer interested and too chicken to tell her or he was just too chicken to make the leap. 

Either way, he was a shit. 

She reached Mandy’s office. The door was still closed. She flung herself onto the bench. 

Her throat started to burn. She fought against it but wasn’t able to stifle back the tears that fell. 

She breathed deeply and eventually managed to calm herself and eventually the tears stopped. 

The door swung open and she locked eyes with Malfoy. She’d been staunchly avoiding him and his gaze since Wednesday. 

He walked away and she stayed seated until Mandy called her in. 

“How are you today, Hermione?” 

“Oh I’ve been better.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“I’d rather not get into it.” 

“Okay. Well is there anything you’d like to talk about?” 

Hermione sighed. What didn’t she want to talk about? 

“I’m mad at him,” she finally said. 

“Who?” 

“Snape. And Dumbledore. And Harry a little bit.” 

“Why is that?” 

“Well Snape was supposed to teach Harry Occlumency. It wasn’t very successful. Are you familiar with Snape’s history with Harry’s parents?” 

Mandy nodded. “Generally, yes.” 

“Well obviously Snape and Harry had a hard time setting aside their differences. Harry never managed any success with Occlumency. I always assumed it was because he wasn’t trying very hard. He hated Snape and I know he was obsessed with that stupid Ministry corridor. It never occurred to me that it was Snape’s fault.” 

“And now you think it was?” 

“Well, Malfoy mentioned something to me about being an Occlumens. He said that Snape had been teaching him since Fourth Year. He briefly mentioned the methods that Snape had taught him. I don’t know why, but when Harry was learning, I never bothered to look into Occlumency. I don’t know if it was because I trusted Dumbledore or because I was preoccupied. But I never looked into it. But after what Draco told me I went to the Library and did some research. It’s really a fascinating subject. After learning more about it actually not surprised that Harry didn’t do well with it. He’s wonderful, but he has never been very good at controlling his emotions. He wears it all on his sleeves. He feels things so passionately. It’s what makes him, him you see. But...” 

“But?” 

“But I asked Harry. He said all Snape ever did was tell him to clear his mind. That's like... That’s like telling someone the key to wandless magic is just to concentrate. Sure, it’s a part of it, but you have to _learn_ how to concentrate. Snape never taught Harry how to clear his mind.” 

“And that upsets you?” 

“Of course it does! Harry never had a chance. Snape didn’t do what he was supposed to do! So much could have been avoided! Snape was perfectly willing to spend 10 hours a week with Draco on Occlumency. He gave him book recommendations. I know because his name was name was in almost all of the Library catalog cards in the section! Why was Harry worth less than Draco when I know that Dumbledore made it clear how vital the lessons were?” 

Hermione was fuming now. 

“And _why_ didn’t Dumbledore punish Snape? I know he knew about the disastrous lessons. Surely it wouldn't have been too hard to figure out what had happened. I saw the memories from Snape. Dumbledore _knew_ how much Snape hated Harry. He _knew_. And he just left Harry’s fate in his hands. All of our fate in his hands. And Sirius... How can Harry...” She shook her head. “I defended him. I defended Snape. I had no reason to. He and Malfoy tormented me for six years. But if you told me the fate of the world rested in my ability to set aside my grudges and work with them, I would. I could do it. It would be hard, but I could set aside my feelings. If I had to I could probably even work with Umbridge. Well.. Maybe not her. But like Lucius Malfoy or somebody. Why couldn’t Snape? He’ was a grown man! A teacher! It was his _job_. We were children. It was not Harry’s responsibility to be the bigger person. Only to do the best he could with the tools he was given of which THERE WERE NONE.” 

Mandy was silent. She simply looked at Hermione for a few moments. 

“And have you talked to Harry about this?” 

“Yes! Well, no, not really. I asked him if it bothered him that Snape never really gave him a shot and he said no. He said he ‘understands’ why it was ‘hard’ for Snape. _Hard?_ HARD? Harry’s godfather died. Lupin died. Moody died. Dumbledore died. Practically every father figure Harry ever had died. We lived in a tent. We barely ate because we didn’t know if it was safe to venture into muggle villages to steal food. I was tortured. The Cruciatus. TEN TIMES. Bellatrix carved ‘mudblood’ into my arm. It'll never go away because it was a cursed blade.” she pushed up her sweater sleeve and brandished it at Mandy. “Ron lost his brother. People lost friends. I obliviated my family so that they couldn’t be used against me. They don’t know they have a daughter and the healers don’t know if they’ll ever be able to restore the memories. Ron’s brother can’t look in mirrors because he thinks he’s seeing his twin. I might never have parents again. Harry _died_ for Christ sake! But for Snape it was _hard_ for him to put aside his school grudge to ensure the fate of the world? BULLSHIT!” 

She didn’t realize she’d raised her voice. 

“I see. And why do you think that Harry doesn’t see it the same way?” 

“He says he’s seen the memories and that there was never any hope. He idolizes Snape.” she rolled her eyes and slumped against the couch. 

“And why does that upset you so much?” 

“Because Snape was _cruel_. He was cruel to Harry. He was cruel to Neville. He was cruel to me! And now that it turns out he had a crush on Harry’s mom we’re all supposed to worship him? Nuh-uh. He was a grown man. He was perfectly nice to the Slytherins. But he was cruel to us each chance he got. Snape was Neville’s boggart! How is it okay that a student’s teacher is his boggart? Snape doesn’t get a free pass because he did one thing right. It doesn’t make up for a lifetime of wrongdoing.” 

Mandy didn’t say anything in response, instead waited for Hermione to keep ranting or calm down. 

Hermione felt her breathing normalize slightly. 

Mandy finally spoke, “You mentioned Malfoy. I know the two of you have a... complicated relationship. How is it seeing him this year?” 

Hermione considered this. “I don’t know. I guess it didn't’ bother me.” 

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but you said he was somewhat of a bully. And, I apologize, but wasn’t it his family home where you were tortured? I read it in the reports McGonagall gave me. And, of course, I listened to several of the trials. I usually wait until someone brings something like that up, but it seems relevant. Forgive me.” 

“Yes, that’s right. He was there. He was supposed to identify us, but he couldn’t. Or didn’t. At the trial he said he chose not to.” 

“And do you believe that?” 

“Yes. I do. Harry wasn’t that unrecognizable. And Ron and I weren’t disguised at all. He didn’t necessarily say it wasn't him but he delayed enough that it gave Harry and Ron a chance to figure out an escape plan.” 

“And do you feel like that makes up for it?” 

Hermione considered the question. “I don’t know. He’s been fine this year. Mostly civil. It’s clear he’s having a hard time. But he hasn’t been hostile. And he certainly hasn’t said anything about my blood status.” 

Mandy looked at her. 

“I mean obviously he’s done bad things. Dumbledore and everything else Sixth Year. And I know he probably had to do terrible things last year under the Carrows. And he was never kind to me. I don’t know. But, generally he’s been nice. We hung out in Hogsmeade a few weekends ago. I don’t know.” 

That was the honest answer. She didn’t know what to make of him. He’d been so nice in Hogsmeade but then so intimidating earlier in the week. She supposed that, like the rest of him, he was hiding in layers. 

“I feel guilty” 

“What about?” Mandy asked curiously. 

“Well, I played down how much fun I had with him in Hogsmeade. Harry didn’t seem to mind, but I'll never forget how much hate he harbored towards him in Sixth Year. And Ron... definitely does not like him. And I wasn’t the only muggle born or ‘blood traitor’ that Malfoy was cruel to. I feel like I'm betraying everyone by wanting to be friends with him.” 

Hermione expected Mandy to tell her that she didn’t need to feel guilty. Instead, she surprised Hermione by asking a question she hadn’t considered before. 

“Well why do you want to be friends with him?” 

“Like I said, he’s been very nice this year. And I can tell that he is struggling. I think he needs friends.” 

“Those sound like reasons to give someone a second chance to me. Why do you want to be is friend?” 

Hermione considered this. “Well he’s smart. I’ve always known that. If I ever lost the top spot in a class, it was usually to him. He is better than me at Defense and Potions. Though not by much. I love Harry and Ron and I think they’re smart too, just in a less bookish studious way. I’ve seen him studying in the Library. And I've seen the way his interest is piqued in theoretical lessons. Usually everyone but me is bored. I think it would be nice to talk to him about our studies. Usually everyone just gets sleepy but I suspect he’d have a lot to add to the conversation.” 

The truth had spilled out and she never realized how much attention she’d payed to Malfoy before. 

“Those sound like very valid reasons to want to be friends with someone to me. Have you talked to your friends about this?” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“Well Harry would be concerned for my sanity. He’s always tried to protect me from the uglier side of the magical world. And Ron’s head would explode. I love him but he is as temperamental as a Blast Ended Skrewt.” She stared at her hands. “And... I guess I'm just...” _afraid of what everyone will say..._

“Since when is Hermione Granger afraid of anything?” Mandy seemed to be able to read her mind. 

“I’m afraid of plenty of things! Flying. I don’t particularly like roaches. And thunderstorms.” 

“I’m not talking about those things. You’re a Gryffindor aren't you?” Hermione got her meaning. Noble things. 

“Are you afraid of him?” 

“No!” she didn’t know how she was so sure, but she just was. In fact, she didn’t think she’d ever actually been afraid of him. 

“Well you’re certainly old enough to make your own decisions. And between you and me, I think now is the perfect time to reevaluate things.” 

Hermione agreed. Her mind was made up. 


	8. Harry Potter, Perpetual Third Wheel

**Author’s Note**

I don’t own Harry Potter. Otherwise we’d have gotten the Deathday party in the second movie.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Harry Potter, Perpetual Third Wheel**

* * *

**Monday, October 12**

**Hermione**

It had been another tense weekend. Ron had avoided the Common Room so she barely saw him. It was fine by her. She was still furious at him. 

Harry had been treating her with all the careful apprehension that one would use when handling an Erumpent horn. After the fifth time of her snapping at him that she was fine he’d seemed to get the hint that whatever it was she didn’t want to talk about it. 

When she got to Herbology Professor Sprout told them all to pair up. She rolled her eyes. After so many years, she shouldn’t be surprised that Harry and Ron automatically paired together without even sparing her a second thought. Her last partner had been Ernie. He was a good partner and an excellent study, if not a little annoying. He was overly friendly and was constantly asking her questions about her interests and extracurricular activities. Like Charms, Herbology was often a class that students took advantage of the chaos to goof off and gossip, Harry and Ron included. They would have both dropped the subject if Kingsley hadn’t told them they needed it for Auror training. 

She spotted Malfoy slip into the classroom silently. She noted that his usual partner, Theo, was absent today. Malfoy was leaning up against the wall in a would-be-casual manner. She narrowed her eyes and decided on a whim to make a change for today. She grabbed her bag and strode over to him, sitting down in the table by his perch. 

“What are you doing, Granger?” 

“I’m sitting with you today.” 

“Why?” he drawled. 

“Well, unless I'm mistaken, Theo is absent today and you need a partner.” She began unpacking her things in a determined manner. 

“Why?” 

“Are you deaf? I just told you.” She wasn’t stupid. He was asking the question in between the lines. 

He said nothing and maintained his still stance against the wall. 

She pulled the bulbs that they were in charge of towards her. She busied herself with preparing her workstation and she could feel his eyes on the back of her head. 

She sighed and picked up one of the small spades and turned around to hand it to him. She was surprised to make eye contact with him but didn’t look away this time. “You told me I'm scared. I’m proving I'm not.” 

Whatever he was thinking, his face didn’t show. He nodded and took the spade and eyed the chair dubiously. He cast a quick cleaning spell on the chair and sank into it gracefully. 

“Worried about mussing up your perfectly pressed robes?” she asked sarcastically. 

“There’s nothing wrong with taking pride in one’s appearance, Granger.” 

She flushed. “If you’re implying--” 

“I’m not implying anything.” He pulled out his gloves and got to work. A few minutes later he said, “If you must know, the fertilizer Sprout uses always smells foul. These awful chairs are always covered in it and I don’t want to smell it the rest of the day.” He looked at her stool. “Though since you sit in front of me in Potions I don’t see how I'll be able to escape it.” 

She rolled her eyes. “If only your old boss had taught you the spell to remove your nose maybe you wouldn’t have to worry about it.” She gasped, horrified at her runaway mouth. “Oh, Malfoy, I'm sorry. That was so rude. I--” 

But to her immense surprise he was laughing. An actual laugh. It was infections and she laughed too. 

After a moment she wiped her eyes and cleared her vision. It was unusually quiet. She noticed that Malfoy was staring at his bulbs very hard. She looked around. Nearly everyone was staring at them. She noticed that Neville looked relatively pleased. Harry was deliberately avoiding her gaze, making a show of cleaning out dirt from under his fingernails. But he didn’t look upset, she noted. Ron, on the other hand, very much looked upset. 

She straightened her shoulders and set back to work. Malfoy mumbled something she didn’t catch. 

“Well, when we finish first, they’ll have no one to blame but themselves,” she said pointedly. 

They worked in silence for the rest of the period. Malfoy was efficient and careful. In fact, she copied one of his techniques and they found, as she predicted, that they finished early. Sprout inspected their work and awarded five points to each Gryffindor and Slytherin for some of the most beautifully pruned bulbs she’d seen in her years as a teacher and dismissed them early. 

She gave Harry and Ron a pointed look as she marched past them. Harry looked curious. Ron looked murderous. 

_Definitely Sixth Year all over again_. 

They walked back up to the castle in silence. It was misting and she could practically feel her hair growing in size with each step. 

_Lovely_. 

“So what was the deal with all that?” Malfoy asked quietly. 

“I _told_ you. I wanted to work with someone different today and I noticed you didn’t have a partner. I apologize if I overstepped. Don’t worry, things will go back to normal next lesson when Nott is back.” 

He mumbled something she didn’t hear. 

“What?” 

“He won’t be. Theo dropped Herbology.” Hermione looked up at Draco. She noticed he looked troubled. “He doesn’t need it. And... he has a lot going on at the moment. Slughorn and McGonagall thought it would be for the best if he didn’t have more to worry about than he needs.” 

“Oh. Well, I he’s getting along okay.” 

They trudged back up through the mud. 

“Well, do you want to work together again next time?” 

“Why don’t you want to work with one of your other friends?” She noticed he did that a lot; answering one question with another. 

“Well I don’t really have a set partner that I like in this class. Harry and Ron always work together. I used to work with Neville a lot but now that we’re combined with the Seventh Years he’s always with Luna. I work with Ernie sometimes, but he’s.... chatty.” 

Malfoy scoffed. 

“What?” 

“Chatty is a word for it.” 

“What do you mean? He’s better than Terry.” 

“Oh I don’t mean that he’s an annoying git. McMillan is nice enough. He’s trying to work up the nerve to ask you at. That’s why he’s ‘chatty.’” 

“What? No, I don’t think so. He and Padma have been on and off since Fifth Year.” 

“They _were_. He wants to ask you to the winter formal. I heard him and Finch talking about it in the bathroom.” 

_Draco Malfoy. An unexpected gossip._

_“_ Oh well, I'm not interested,” she mumbled, embarrassed. 

“Do I look like an owl Granger?” He had smirked at her discomfort. 

She sighed determined, “Well, even more reason to put him at a distance. What do you say? Partners?” 

She held out her hand to him. He stopped dead in his tracks, looking at her hand apprehensively. 

“I don’t _bite”._

He laughed and shook her hand. 

“Why do you want to work with me anyway?” 

“Well, you’re very smart. And it’s clear you know what you’re doing. I know we have our research project next term. It’s always nice to have a competent study partner.” She shrugged. 

“Alright but don’t expect me to start sitting at the Gryffindor table at meals and stuff.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” 

He held the door open for her and they headed in opposite directions. 

* * *

**Harry**

Harry knew that Hermione and Ron wouldn’t make it through the evening without exploding. They’d been avoiding each other all weekend and Hermione’s choice to partner up with Malfoy in Herbology was the last straw. He did hope they could at least make it back to the Common Room first, though. He didn’t really want the attention at dinner and he desperately hoped they could maybe just have their inevitable argument while he was at Mandy’s that evening and therefore couldn’t be forced to choose sides. 

Unfortunately, he was not that lucky. They had shared tea at Hagrid’s that afternoon and had lost track of time. He wasn’t attending dinner as he had to tend to some Unicorns so they’d forgotten to head up to the castle. Almost everyone was already in the Great Hall. 

The tension had been building the whole way up the castle. As they had passed the greenhouses Ron had sighed angrily and shot back a murderous glare at Hermione. She had scoffed. It had sounded like she was going to say something, but to Harry’s relief she didn’t. 

They made their way onto one of the moving staircases. A moment too late, Harry realized this was the faulty one. Some of them had been damaged in the battle and Professors Flitwick and Babbling hadn’t been to successfully fix. “Since they were enchanted 800 years ago, it takes sometimes time to decipher the enchantments,” Flitwick had informed them while warning them to steer clear of this particular one. Indeed, it moved but instead of connecting with the landing on the next floor it simply hovered in midair. In addition, the vanishing step on this staircase had multiplied and he became trapped. 

Harry groaned internally. So much for hoping. 

“Ugh I forgot about this one!” Hermione cried in frustration. 

Unfortunately, the corridors were deserted as everyone was settling in for dinner. Though Hermione was excellent at Charms, even she couldn’t get them out of this situation. 

Harry closed his eyes waited. 

Ron sighed heavily for the thousandth time that afternoon. 

“ _What_ Ronald?” 

Ron mumbled something neither he nor Hermione could hear. 

“Come again?” 

He glared at her. 

“Well whatever it is, spit it out. I’m tired of hearing you huffing about.” 

“You know very well _what,”_ he spat. 

“Oh, I do?” 

If Harry wasn’t quite so afraid of the situation he would have laughed at her appearance. The rain and general humidity plus a double potions period that afternoon had made her hair positively insane. 

“Yes. You partnered up with Malfoy just to mess with me.” 

“Oh well _excuse me_ if I had to pick someone because you and Harry always abandon me!” 

Harry felt guilty. They did usually just assume she’d do fine on her own finding a partner in class. 

“You could have picked _anyone_ but you picked him just to get me spun up!” 

“I did no such thing. I offered to partner with him because I thought we would work well together. And, in case you didn’t notice, WE DID! Since you two prats are about as observant as a pair of trolls, I haven't had a consistent partner all year!” 

Ron grumbled something about “yeah you want to _work_ together alright...” under his breath. 

“We’ve been OVER THIS! Until you decide you want to do something about it, it’s none of your business who I do or don’t go out with!” 

“Well I’m supposed to be your friend which means I get an opinion.” 

This, Harry thought, was not the right argument to make. 

Hermione scoffed. “Ohhhhh well in that case you might like to know that Ernie is planning on asking me out. Are you going to start hating him now too?” 

Harry perked up. This was an interesting development. 

“ERNIE? Merlin, Hermione, you sure are making the rounds this year.” 

“Ron, mate, that’s uncalled--” Harry had to duck as Hermione’s fist came out of nowhere, clearly aiming for Ron. He was shocked. This was escalating further than he’d expected. To his knowledge she’d only hit one other person before and she had been dangerously angry that time too. 

OI! Bloody woman...” 

“HOW DARE YOU RON! AFTER EVERTHING YOU PUT ME THROUGH SIXTH YEAR YOU HAVE THE GALL--” 

“Hey, you guys, let’s just talk this through. There's no need to dr--” 

“SHUT UP!” they both shouted at him. 

Fine. He sat down on the stairs with considerable difficulty given that his foot was stuck. He reached into his bag and pulled out his Quidditch plays he’d been working on. He couldn’t be held accountable if they killed each other, he was stuck in this bloody step. Anyway, it was in his best interests if they kept yelling as it would undoubtably attract the attention of a teacher who could come rescue them. 

“Listen closely, Ron. I don’t want to date Ernie. I certainly don’t want to date Malfoy. There is ONLY ONE person I’m interested in that’s YOU.” 

Harry had to admit he was impressed that Hermione was getting straight to the point. 

Ron was sputtering. 

“SO WHAT’S IT GOING TO BE? Are you going to chicken out or do you have the balls to come out and admit how you feel?” 

“BLIMEY HERMIONE! It’s... I... It’s not that.... I” 

“WHAT?!” 

“IT’S TOO MUCH PRESSURE!” 

“What’s too much pressure” she seethed. 

“US! EVERYTHING!” 

“THERE IS NO US! FOR THE LAST TIME. DO. YOU. LIKE. ME. OR. NOT?” 

“OKAY FINE I LIKE YOU! I HAVE FOR AGES.” 

Harry’s ears rang from the yelling that was transpiring above his head. He rolled his eyes. At least they were getting somewhere. 

Ron spoke again, softer but still angry. “It’s just too much pressure. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I'm gonna do after Hogwarts. I feel like I have to hold my family together. I want to be an Auror but I also want to go help Charlie. But I need to help George. And Mum wants me to become a kiss ass like Percy. I can’t imagine what’s gonna happen at Christmas, let alone the rest of my life!” 

“What does this right now,” she gestured between them, hitting Harry in the head, “have to do with the rest of your life?” 

“Well, you’re gonna want to go steady, get married, and have babies right?” 

Hermione laughed. “Are you serious Ronald?!” 

“YES! Believe it or not I've been trying to spare your feelings! I don’t know if I can give you all that and I don’t want to get your hopes up.” 

Hm. This was possibly the most introspective he’d ever heard Ron. 

“Ron. All I'm asking you to do is admit that you like me. I’m not asking you to propose to me.” 

“But that’s where it will lead! It’s too much!” 

“Why do you assume I'm going to want to marry you anyway?!” 

“Well we’ve liked each other for ages! I figure it’s inevitable.” 

Hermione scoffed, “Oh, be still my heart. What a beautiful declaration of love, Ronald. In this moment I'd like to never see you again, let alone _marry_ you. But regardless, believe me when I say I am not ready for anything that serious.” 

“You’re not?” 

“NO. I would like to start at square one.” 

Just when Harry thought they might be winding down, Ron muttered something about “that’s never how Lavender felt.” He internally groaned. 

“LAVENDER? WHAT DOES SHE HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?” 

“After the first time we snogged, all Lavender wanted to do was talk about the future! And look at Harry and Ginny! They barely got back together and were practically living together.” 

Harry did not have a good feeling about being dragged into the conversation. 

“YOU. ARE. SUCH. AN. IDIOT!” Hermione screeched, “I am not Lavender. And just because Harry and Ginny are foolish enough to be rush--” 

“Hey!” Harry was offended. He thought his relationship with Ginny was going quite well. He looked up to see them nose to nose glaring at each other. 

“Sorry, Harry.” She shot him a guilty look before taking a deep calming breath. “Anyway, Ron. Believe me when I tell you that I know what I feel and what I want. You and I don’t have to decide our whole future right here on this staircase. Who even knows if we’d end up liking each other enough that way to want to get married in the future?” 

“Well, then, what do you want?” Ron asked in a small voice. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe start small. Go on a date. Spend some time together where you don’t treat me as your personal thesaurus.” 

“Your what?” 

“Never mind,” she said in the same typical affectionately annoyed voice she usually did. Harry let out a deep breath. I was fairly sure this time they were done shouting.” 

“So, start small?” 

“Yes, Ron. Then see where it goes from there. Just no running away. You have to talk to me and tell me what’s wrong. I can’t read your mind. And you can’t assume how I feel.” 

“Yeah, okay. I think I can do that.” 

“Okay then.” 

“Saturday, then?” Ron said sheepishly. 

“What? 

“Saturday. We’ll go down to Hogsmeade. Just the two of us. It’s not a Hogsmeade weekend so there won’t be a bunch of snot nosed kids milling about.” 

“Oh,” she sounded flustered. “Okay, yes. That would be very nice.” 

“Great.” 

“What time.” 

“Uh... Three?” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

Several beats passed. 

“Are you guys done now?” Harry asked irritably, “Could I trouble one of you to help me out of this step? I’m pretty sure I've lost all use in my foot by now.” 

They both seemed to remember that he was there, sitting on the floor between them. 

“What on earth is going on here?” Professor McGonagall barked as she came around the corridor below them. 

“We got stuck, Professor,” Harry explained. 

“And the shouting?” Professor McGonagall stood below them eyeing them angrily. 

“Nothing.” they all said together. 

“Very well then,” she said, her eyes still narrowed. “Please make your way to the Great Hall for dinner. And please refrain from distracting the students with your future disagreements.” She had started to turn away. 

“Professor! Can you please help us get free?” 

“Oh, yes. Of course, Mr. Potter.” 

She waved her wand, unstuck them, and summoned the floating staircase towards her. 

They trudged off to the Great Hall in silence. 

Harry secretly felt that, even though Ron probably could have gone about asking Hermione out in a suaver manner, this was a positive development. 

After dinner he headed up to see Mandy, very thankful for some peace and quiet. 

**Wednesday, October 14**

**Draco**

“So word on the street is that Granger has replaced me?” 

“Huh?” 

“I’d expected a period of mourning before you moved on to a new Herbology partner.” 

“Oh shove it, Theo.” 

“Awe, why so testy?” 

Draco rolled his eyes and continued towards the Group Therapy room. 

“C’mon, how’d you convince Granger to partner up with you? The gossip mill says that you’re with her for the rest of the year.” 

“It was her idea actually,” Draco supplied. 

“Oh is that so? Why's she slumming it?” 

Draco sped up. “Maybe she just wanted the best.” 

“Or maybe she’s heard that you are wizarding Britain’s most eligible bachelor and wanted to stake her claim!” 

Draco stopped and glared at Theo. His mother had decided that it was time for him to find a wife. After all, she had informed him, she and his father were already betrothed by this point. She had been “putting out feelers” to all of the still-respected pureblood families and, to his great surprise, high society half-blood families. Theo had gotten wind of this from Pansy who had heard it from her mother and they had been mocking him ceaselessly. If it hadn’t put Theo in such an unusually happy mood he would have threatened him by now. 

“I doubt it,” he continued glaring. 

“Ah ah ah! You are,” he raised his voice a few octaves and used the sing songy voice his mother always adopted, “such a handsome and intelligent young man.” 

“I’m not in the mood today, Theo.” 

“Alright, alright,” Theo said, sensing that he had reached the end of his rope. They continued their trek up from the dungeons. “But seriously, why do you think she wanted to work with you?” 

Draco knew the answer. He’d goaded her into it by insinuating she was a coward for not hating him but also not being open about it. 

“Who knows,” he lied. 

“Well at least she’s smart.” 

“Yep. That's why I agreed.” 

“Oh, I'm sure that’s the _only_ reason.” 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Well she’s not hard to look at either.” 

Draco rolled his eyes. “I don’t _like_ Granger.” 

“I never said that! Guilty conscience!” 

“Oh come off it, Theo. You insinuated it.” 

They spent the rest of the walk debating whether or not Granger was attractive (Draco was firmly in the “no” camp), whether or not Draco liked her (again, no), and whether or not she liked him (hell no). 

“Enough!” Draco hissed as they walked into the room. 

“Alright, alright. I’m just yanking your chain, mate.” He winked at Draco before taking a seat. Just as the bell rang he leaned in and whispered, “Besides, it doesn’t matter if you like her or not. We all know she’ll break your heart regardless.” 

* * *

**Thursday, October 15**

**Draco**

Draco trudged up to the stairs to meet the other members of the Inter House Common Room planning committee. This was not how he wanted to spend his evening but Theo, Blaise, and Pansy had flat out refused to trade with him. He met them in the room McGonagall had created for them. She’d enchanted several large unused classrooms into one for their purposes. He slumped into the empty chair. 

“Great, now that we’re all here we can get started,” Longbottom said. _Ah, our fearless leader, I presume._ “Now, as we’ll be working closely together over the next couple months, I think it would do us all some good to clear the air.” _No, Longbottom. Don’t do it._ “Obviously last year was really hard for all of us,” he made eye contact with Draco. “In different ways, of course, for each of us. But I think that since we’re all here at Hogwarts we all share the same goals: finish our schooling, honor those we’ve lost, and move on.” 

Padma spoke up, “Well said, Neville.” 

“Yes, definitely,” agreed Susan. 

All three looked at Draco. He nodded, wanting to die right here. It was obvious they were going out of their way to try to make him comfortable. They could have dropped a bucket of undiluted bubotubor puss on his face and he’d still be less comfortable than he was now. Why did everyone feel the need to tell him how little they blamed him and how much they pitied him? 

“Right, then let’s get started,” Longbottom said, pulling out a huge piece of parchment and stuck it to the wall using a sticking charm. He began drawing on it as people threw out suggestions. 

In the end they’d decided to keep it generally color neutral but incorporate some of the features of each house. 

Though he wouldn’t admit it, it was interesting to hear about the other Common Rooms. He’d never really given it much thought. 

Gryffindor had lots of fires and windows that opened westward filling it with warm sunset light. Hufflepuff had lots of skylights and plants that let in morning light. It was painted yellow so that it felt warm and light even at night. Ravenclaw was the airiest and included bookcases3 and a starry ceiling. 

The others were the most interested in learning about the Slytherin Common Room as none of them had ever been on good enough terms with a Slytherin to find out. He explained that the ceiling was tall, at least three stories high and had windows that went all the way to the ceiling. The windows looked directly into the Lake where fish and other creatures could often be seen swimming by. They were fascinated that he’d seen both the Giant Squid and Merpeople up close at the age of 11. 

They agreed on furniture in creams and browns as that was neutral, but all the pillows would be in the house colors. They opted for a high ceiling, like Slytherin and Ravenclaw. They would have several closed alcoves to make the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs comfortable as they were used to a cozier and less regal atmosphere. After a friendly but heated debate between Susan and Padma, they decided to enchant the ceiling similarly to that of the Great Hall. The girls positively squealed with delight when Draco suggested they make one of the walls a giant aquarium in honor of Slytherin. They decided to dedicate one wall to each House. Gryffindor would have several fireplaces. Apparently the Gryffindor fireplaces burned actual wood instead of simply using an enchanted flame. Ravenclaw’s would feature a “take one, leave one” bookcase where people could exchange books with other students. Apparently they had something similar in Ravenclaw called “The Stacks”* where graduating students would leave a book that meant something to them. Hufflepuff’s wall would include vines and other plants spanning the entire ceiling. 

They proposed leather couches, squishy armchairs, casual poufs, and stately armchairs for Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw respectively. 

They also decided that each house should lead a monthly activity. It could be educational or just for fun. The prefects of each house could decide on that year’s activity(ies) but they would come up with the ones for the Spring Term. 

Each was tasked with researching their house’s decorations and activities and they would reconvene in three weeks to come up with an official plan to present to McGonagall in November. 

It wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. The meeting lasted about two hours and in a moment of insanity, Draco called one of the Manor’s house elves up from the kitchens. His mother had reassigned one to Hogwarts each year, just in case he needed something. He’d asked Gippy to bring up some snacks and Butterbeer. 

“To the first hangout in the All House Commons!” Longbottom had raised his bottle in a toast. 

Susan and Longbottom engaged in a rowdy game of Exploding Snap she’d summoned from her room. Padma settled on the floor to finish that week’s Prophet crossword. Draco simply watched the other three who were so obviously comfortable with each other. He drank quickly, doing his best to engage in the small talk. 

He’d never interacted with Susan before and she was quite pleasant. She had a warm smile and had gone out of her way to compliment Draco several times during the two hours of their meeting. That was the nice thing about Hufflepuffs, all of their compliments always sounded heartfelt. _That’s because they aren’t Slytherins, you prat._ She’d asked about his mother. Apparently her aunt who’d been killed had been in the same philanthropic society as his mother and they’d always been involved with. She mentioned that she’d found some photos from some of the function they’d put on together. Feeling the warm buzz of Butterbeer he encouraged her to send a copy of the photos to his mother. “She always spoke so highly of Madam Bones,” he told her. 

He’d gotten to know Padma a bit when she’d briefly dated Blaise Fifth Year. Blaise and Draco had never really been friends but they were both close to Theo, so they tolerated each other. He’d always preferred Padma to her sister who was usually squealing and giggling with Lavender Brown. A strong pang of guilt took hold of him as he remembered Parvati crying with Professor Trelawney next to her body. It was true that he hadn’t really seen much of that behavior this year... 

It was enough to sober him up and he announced that he was turning in for the night. 

“Hey! Malfoy!” Neville was running to catch up with him. 

“Yes?” 

“I just wanted to, you know, see how you’re doing?” 

“Fine, thanks,” Draco said as he turned to walk away again. 

“Really? Luna said I should check in with you.” 

Draco groaned. Sometimes the Lovegood oddity was almost more trouble than she was worth. 

When Draco had been released from Azkaban, he’d been surprised to find out just how much time Luna had been spending at the Manor. He had been even more surprised to learn that Longbottom had been there almost as much, tending to his mother’s gardens and greenhouses. 

Draco had planned to seclude himself to his room and the library for the remainder of the summer and avoid his mother and all other humans as much as possible. But, whatever he’d told Granger, Azkaban had been a struggle. Though he’d had it easier than most because of his Occlumency skills, he’d been there much longer than necessary as they chose to try some off the more infamous Death Eaters first. After the first few days of solitude, his mother had come to his room to let him know that Luna had arrived for a visit and positively dragged him to the gardens to visit with them at tea. _“After all, showing a little hospitality is the_ least _you could do after everything,” she’d chided him._ Though he had been determined to say hello and ignore her the entire time he’d found the desire for any kind of non-hostile social interaction was too tempting. Plus there was the absolutely insane factor of her not seeing to blame either of them at all. She’d resolutely demanded that they (at least he and his mother) had treated her fairly. Draco thought this was a fairly egregious exaggeration but he’d kept it to himself. He didn’t really think the absence of torture was the same as hospitality. Regardless of what he said she maintained that it was her desire to move forward and that she’d already done all the forgiving she needed to and that it would be rude for him to force her to hold a grudge against her will. _“After all, holding a grudge is like drinking doxy venom and expecting the other person to get sick...” she’d informed him._

She was helping his mother restore the family photo collection. It had been damaged at some point during the Death Eaters’ residence and Luna’s father’s printing equipment was helpful. Luna was there several times a week and the three of them often shared meals. 

Occasionally she’d bring Longbottom with her to look after his mother’s greenhouses. This had been a far more tense reintroduction. It appeared that he’d made peace with his mother, given that her role in the war had been limited. Aside from a lifetime of trained prejudice and some snide comments, she’d never really believed in the cause as much as his father had. Indeed she had begun corresponding with her sister Andromeda. Draco had always suspected that his mother’s views on muggle borns weren’t as strong as his father’s. Plus, she had always been a better politician than his father. If she still held any prejudices she hid them well. 

The first time they saw each other, Longbottom had eyed him suspiciously and asked Draco two questions. 

_“Do you still believe that muggles and muggle borns and Order sympathizers are worth less than pure bloods and Death Eaters?”_

_“No.”_

_“And do you regret your actions and behavior over the last seven years?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“And do you mean any harm to Luna or any other muggle borns or Order members?”_

_“No.”_

_He’d taken a deep breath and stepped forward with an outstretched hand. “Well that and the fact that Luna has decided to be your friend is good enough for me I suppose.”_

Longbottom certainly hadn’t been as friendly as Luna but he was cordial and made an effort to get to know Draco outside of what he already knew. It was an odd feeling, he thought, to have someone seem like they genuinely wanted to learn more about you. He’d also found Longbottom to be particularly observant. He’d realized that Draco hadn’t wanted to appear too friendly at Hogwarts but had not been offended by it. It wasn’t that Draco was embarrassed. He just didn’t want to draw any attention to himself. And chumming around with the Snake Slayer (thanks, Rita Skeeter) would do more than draw a little attention. Instead he’d maintained his cordial demeanor and made a point to say hello to Draco whenever they were alone. 

“I haven’t really had a chance to say hi. Figured you could do with a checking-in. How are you settling back in?” 

“Peachy.” 

“It’s weird to be back. Almost like the last year didn’t happen.” 

“Yeah.” 

Longbottom, like Granger, had grown into themselves the best over the past year he’d noticed. Longbottom was almost as tall as him now and all of his baby pudge had been replaced by lean muscle. If he hadn’t known him for half his life, Draco might not have believed he was the same kid from First Year. 

“Well, thanks for helping with this.” 

“I didn’t exactly volunteer.” 

Longbottom laughed. “Yeah but you could’ve been a real ass about it.” 

“Believe it or not, Longbottom, but I can actually be nice.” 

“Ha! I’ll believe it when I see it. Well I'm this way. See ya!” 

Draco bid him goodnight as they headed off in the opposite directions of their Common Rooms 

* * *

**Author’s Note**

* I have ~~blatantly stolen~~ respectfully borrowed the idea of “The Stacks” from HeartOfAspen’s “Eagle’s Nest.” It’s a great fic and I loved reading it so much! Check it out.


	9. C’mon Kiss the Bloody Witch

**Author’s Note:**

I don’t own Harry Potter. Otherwise Harry would have just had his eyes fixed instead of putting up with his glasses.

* * *

**Chapter 9: C’mon Kiss the Bloody Witch**

* * *

**Saturday, October 17**

**Hermione**

_Focus, Hermione._

She had read the same paragraph four times. She looked at her watch. It was 2:30. She still had 25 minutes until she needed to head to the Entrance Hall to meet Ron. 

The interesting research she had to do was up in her room. What she had had with her in the Common Room was not nearly interesting enough to keep her interest. She hadn’t planned on retreating to the Library but after two hours of pointed looks from both Harry and Ginny and subsequent snickering, she’d decided to hide in the library until it was time to meet Ron. 

The library was deserted. It wasn’t usually busy on Saturdays but today was particularly quiet. Most people were enjoying one of the last sunny Saturdays outside. 

Normally she preferred the library quiet. But today she could have used some distractions. 

She read another page and shut the book in annoyance. It was no use. 

2:34. How could only four minutes have passed? 

She looked at the window. The sun did look very welcoming... 

She saw a First Year Gryffindor packing up her belongings and she decided. She scribbled a quick note and walked over to her. 

_Ron – I’ll be at the lake. Our usual spot. See you at 3. Hermione_

“Excuse me...” 

The girl squeaked with terror. 

_Honestly. When did they get so small?_

“Are you heading back to Gryffindor tower?” 

She nodded. 

“Please give this note to Ron Weasley. Do you know who he is?” 

She nodded again. 

“If he’s not in the Common Room you can give it to Harry Potter and he’ll make sure Ron gets it.” 

The girl stared up at her with wide eyes. 

“I will not let you down.”* 

“Er, thanks. I appreciate it.” 

The girl was still staring at her. 

“Thank you. Have a good... err... weekend.” 

She had made it all the way to the exit of the library before she felt a tug on her sleeve. 

“Miss Granger? Could I... Could... never mind. I’ll deliver your message.” 

She’d turned back around. 

“Yes, what is it... Gabby?” 

“Abby,” she said meekly. 

“Sorry. Abby. What do you need?” She smiled at her warmly. 

Abby produced a small piece of heavy parchment and held it out to Hermione with a shaking hand. She took it and stifled a groan. It was her Chocolate Frog card. 

“Would you... would you sign it?” 

For a moment she considered telling her no. But she found she couldn’t bring it upon herself to disappoint the girl. 

“Of course.” She took out a permanent marker to sign it. 

“thank you so much,” she gushed. “My sister was a couple of years behind you. She said you were the smartest and bravest and most beautiful witch she’d ever seen. She was too scared to come back this year. She... couldn’t forget about the Carrows.” She looked sadly at the ground and then looked back up at Hermione with her eyes blazing. “But I think I can convince her to come back in the Spring Term if I give her this card for Christmas.” 

“Oh, well. Of course.” 

She gave the card back to Abby and smiled at her. “Tell your sister--” 

“Cassie.” 

“Yes, tell Cassie that I expect to see her after Christmas. No excuses. She should sit with me at dinner and I'd love to hear all about the two of you.” She winked at the girl and headed off to the lake to sit in the sun before she met Ron. 

The fame wasn’t _so bad_ , really... 

* * *

**Ron**

Ron made his way down to the lake. He went around the north side to the rocks that he, Hermione, and Harry usually liked to sit. 

He saw her and she waved him over, pretending that he wasn’t scared shitless. 

“Hey,” he said sitting down. 

“Hey,” she replied looking a little embarrassed. “You got my note.” 

“Yeah, thanks. Library?” 

“Mhm. I couldn’t sit in the Common Room anymore.” 

“I know what you mean. Harry and Ginny sure are smug?” 

She laughed, “Yes, I didn’t think I could stand any more pointed glances.” 

“Me either. I told them to sod off and I went flying.” 

“Oh! That explains this--” she ruffled his hair and his stomach did a somersault, “this then.” 

“Oh, yeah,” he mumbled trying to flatten out his hair. He should have looked in the mirror. 

“Nice day for flying though.” 

“Definitely. Probably the last good one we’ll have until the spring.” 

“Well... shall we?” she asked. 

He stood up and offered her his hand. She took it and helped her up. She didn’t let go of his hand. His stomach did the flippy thing again. 

They made their way down the path to Hogsmeade. They stopped in front of the gate and gave the password. McGonagall had given all of the Eighth Years a special password so that they could enter and exit the school at their leisure. As long as they were back by 9 they could go wherever they wanted. Though McGonagall had insisted they let her know if they were going anywhere other than Hogsmeade. 

“So, how are practices going?” she asked after a long silence. 

“Oh pretty good. It’s weird, being the oldest ones on the team. One of the new chasers is a Second Year and he’s so terrified of me and Harry that half the time he drops the Quaffle.” 

“They do seem smaller right? No way we ever looked that small.” 

He laughed. 

“Ginny told me that the Chasers for Slytherin and Hufflepuff are completely new. Will that make things... er... harder?” 

He launched into a long speech about the other teams and what he, Ginny, and Harry had been able to deduce about their strengths and weaknesses. She asked questions and if it had been anyone else he would have gotten annoyed at how much she got wrong. When she called the hoops “baskets” he decided he’d never realized how endearing her lack of knowledge was. _This is so much nicer than when Lavender would get mad every time I talked about Quidditch._ They’d almost reached the village that it dawned on him that he was talking to _Hermione_ about _Quidditch and_ that she seemed perfectly happy about it. It was another moment that he realized this wasn’t the first time this term that she’d brought it up. He stopped in his tracks and stared at her, mouth agape. 

“What?” she patted her hair and face, “Do I have something...” 

“Since when do you know about Quidditch?” 

“Oh... I could hardly be best friends with you and Harry and Ginny without picking up some tertiary knowledge...” 

“No, you’re talking about stats and stuff. And you usually ignore us. You... started the conversation.” 

“Well, it’s nothing.” 

“C’mon, Hermione. Why are you suddenly interested in a subject you hate?” He raised his eyebrows at her. 

She stared resolutely at the ground, took a deep breath, and said breathlessly, “Well, if you must know, I started reading up on Quidditch towards the end of the summer when you and Harry wouldn’t talk to me about anything. I was so scared and you were both so reclusive. I was terrified you were each going to implode. Especially you, since Harry had Ginny. I figured maybe if I knew enough to carry on a conversation we’d all feel more comfortable. Especially since Quidditch really has very little to do with... everything. Anyway, don’t get excited. I still feel like it’s a dreadfully boring topic but I did enjoy learning about the history of the sport. I know I probably sound like an idiot but I just thought I'd—What?” 

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Hermione Granger never did anything she didn’t want to (unless it included saving his and Harry’s asses) and here she had been reading up on Quidditch so that they’d have something to talk about other than his family, the war, and all of the other shit he wasn’t ready for. 

“I’m just... It was just unexpected is all.” 

“Well, yes, I thought so too. Now don’t get any ideas. I don’t want to go flying and this absolutely does not give you and Harry permission to only talk about Quidditch from now on. I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to learn more about one of your interests.” 

He laughed. “I’ll try” 

“Though I do have to admit it hasn’t been nearly as painful listening to your conversations now that I understand a little more.” 

He gleeful smirk crossed his face. “Don’t tell me I actually get an ‘I told you so.’” 

“Now, look, Ronald. I did something nice, don't ruin it. You get to be right and rub it in my face once a year. If you want to waste it on this, then be my guest.” She crossed her arms resolutely and marched off towards the village. He chased her, laughing the whole way. She was so damn cute it hurt. 

They did some shopping. He’d already eaten all of the candy she’d picked up for him so he needed to restock. They had fun sampling the new candy. He’d never been to Hogsmeade outside of a Hogwarts weekend. It was quite nice. The shops weren’t crowded so they were able to move around easily. They stopped by the Quidditch supplies store so he could look around. He resisted the urge to drag her over to the broom display and ogle over the different models. He tried on some Keeper gloves and told her they’d come back at the end of the day if he didn’t find any he liked better at the other store. He tried to get her to buy a Chudley Cannons scarf but she had flat out refused, saying that’s where she drew the line. 

Since she’d been patient at the Quidditch store he suggested they go to Flourish and Blotts. She blabbered about some fiction series she was reading and positively gushed about the new biography of some famous healer he’d never heard about. While she bit her nails trying to narrow down her selections to 3 of the 15 she’d put in the basket he wandered over to the Quidditch section. As he passed the sale section something caught his eye. He picked it off the shelf and looked at the back. 

Should he? It was bound to be dreadfully boring. But if she could... And maybe this version wouldn’t be as bad. Was it too cheesy? He ruminated over the book for a few minutes. Finally he remembered the look on her face after he’d given her the framed photo. _I want her to look at me like that all the time_. 

He looked in on her on the next isle and chuckled to himself. She’d frizzed up her hair, pulling at it trying to decide on her books. He bought his book and wandered back over to check on her. 

“Okay well I just can’t narrow it down between these 5. She looked distraught.” 

“Why don’t you just write down the names and have them delivered by owl order once you finish with the others?” 

“Oh, well I guess. I just get so excited about bringing them back and looking at them on my desk...” 

He laughed at her but did not poke fun. 

The clerk came by to see how they were doing. The clerk pointed out that one of the books would have a new edition coming out in January. Hermione decided to buy the four she’d narrowed it down to. 

They exited the shop and went back to buy his gloves. She checked her watch and suggested they stop by the Three Broomsticks before heading back up for dinner. 

“What’s that?” she asked him, pointing to the Flourish and Blotts bag. 

“A book.” 

“You bought a book?” 

“What, you’re not the only one allowed are you?” He shoved her shoulder lightly. 

“What is it?” 

Sheepishly he pulled out the book. 

“ _Hogwarts: A History (An Abridged Edition)_.” She looked at him with wide eyes. 

He shrugged. “If you can read about Quidditch maybe I can make it through your favorite book. I mean it’s shorter. I’m not reading 1,000 pages. Plus, it was on sale. It’s stupid.” 

She launched herself at him in a tight hug and planted a kiss on his cheek. He blushed and hugged her back, inhaling the scent of her hair and enjoying the hug. When he looked down at her she was staring up at his face with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. 

_You’re a Gryffindor for Christ's sake. Kiss the bloody woman._

He slowly bent his head down towards hers. He felt her raise herself onto her tiptoes and meet his lips with hers. After a few moments they separated and she rested her head on his chest. He rested his chin on top of her head and held her close. They stood that way for a long while, shoppers bustling around them trying to finish their business before finally heading over to the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer or two. 

_Maybe I should buy books more often..._

**Friday, October 16**

**Harry**

“Are you coming Hermione?” Harry asked after they finished eating dinner. 

She shrugged noncommittally. 

“Oh come on, you’re not going to go to the library are you? It’s Friday night.” 

“I don’t always study, you know. I was going to read actually. And the library is the best place on a Friday because it’s quiet.” 

“It’ll be quiet down at the Pitch! You can read there! 

She rolled her eyes. “Okay but only until it gets too dark to see.” 

Harry sighed with relief as they made their way through the entrance hall. He was glad she was coming. He didn’t bother to ask if she’d like to try flying. The answer to that question had been a hard no since Second Year. But he did worry about her a bit this year. She seemed a little lost. He suspected it was because of her parents. And it probably had something to do with Ron as well. He was sure she didn’t quite know what her place was now that they were... whatever they were. He also had a sneaking suspicion that she, like him, didn’t quite know what to do with her extra energy. At least he had Quidditch. Every other year they’d been frantically trying to solve a mystery and stay alive. Without those extracurricular activities (as Mrs. Weasley had called them) it felt like there was a strange void. Of course, he wasn’t complaining, but it was still odd. 

Hermione was chattering on about something Professor Flitwick had said this week. He tried to pay attention, but he just didn’t really care. As they passed into the quad he caught a glimpse of telltale blonde hair. But as soon as it had appeared it had gone away. He looked around and saw Malfoy quietly stalking off carrying his broom. 

“Hey Malfoy!” 

“Were you even listening at all Harry?” Hermione sighed exasperatedly but he ignored her. 

“Malfoy! Wait up!” Malfoy was walking resolutely in the opposite direction. He ran after him leaving Hermione looking indignant in the square. He was pretty sure the closer he got the faster Malfoy walked. 

Jogging to catch up with Malfoy he tapped him on the shoulder. “Oi Malfoy! Didn’t you hear me?” 

Malfoy slowly turned around and glared at him. “Obviously not.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Going down to the Pitch? You should join us!” 

Malfoy eyed him suspiciously and glanced over his head at Hermione. “Granger flies?” 

Harry remembered what Hermione had said earlier in the year: _“have you ever noticed how Malfoy always evades a question by asking another question on another subject?”_

Harry laughed. “Not in a million years. But I’m making her come with me. She’ll just read in the stands and probably fall asleep once the sun sets. It’ll be me and Ginny and Ron. Neville might stop by too if he can extricate himself from Luna’s lips.” 

“Well as enjoyable as that sounds, I’ve just come from there.” 

Harry didn’t believe that for a second. His hair was perfect. But Harry wasn’t stupid enough to push it. If Malfoy wanted to save his pride he could. 

“Alright, well next time!” 

Malfoy nodded at him and said quietly, “Thanks Potter.” 

Harry ran off in the opposite direction towards Hermione who had started to walk without him. 

She raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged. After a few quiet moments he asked, “How’s that going anyway?” 

“What?” 

“Malfoy?” 

“What about Malfoy, Harry?” 

“Oh come off it, Hermione. You’re Herbology partners now and you told me you’re trying to be friendly to him. How is that going?” 

“Oh... Well as you’d expect. He’s still a complete ass but at least he’s not a backwards bigoted ass this year.” 

Harry laughed. “I guess that’s an improvement. So he’s been civil and everything?” 

She shrugged. “I mean he’s very... prickly. But he hasn’t said anything about me being a filthy mudblood or anything. And he apologized about my parents. I think it was just a misunderstanding. I don’t think he knew...” 

Harry hummed in agreement. 

“Well that’s good. I wondered, you know.” 

“I think... I think he’s just trying to lay low. It’s not like he’s popular this year, you know?” 

“Yeah, I know. I forced a Hufflepuff prefect to deduct house points from himself for shooting a spit wad at him in the hallway.” Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. “I know I said I'd only use my fame for good, but I can’t resist wielding it every so often. Anyway,” he continued as she rolled her eyes, “I just... I think he’s just trying to move on, same as the rest of us. And he wasn’t sentenced so people should lay off him.” 

“Wow, Harry, I didn’t know you were such a fan boy.” 

He hit her on the arm. “Oh come on, you know you agree with me. I saw you scowling when everyone was ragging on him in the common room last week.” 

She nodded. 

“He apologized to me, you know. About everything. Well not everything, but for being a shit all those years. I told him I forgave him.” 

“Wow, Harry. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He shrugged. “I kept forgetting. Anytime I remembered we were with Ron and I didn’t think he’d take it quite as well.” 

She grimaced, “No, I don’t suppose he would. Well, I'm glad you’re looking out for him. I know he’s trying to turn over a new leaf. And he has a long way to go, perception and otherwise. I just remember how he looked Sixth Year... especially towards the end...” 

Harry shuddered guiltily. He’d been so focused on his vendetta it hadn’t even occurred to him how terrible Malfoy had really looked. It wasn’t until he’d spotted a picture in the Daily Prophet of the family from before the war that it occurred to him the last year had taken a toll on more than just their group. 

“Well I assume he’s working hard? I’ll kick his ass if he’s making you do all the work.” 

Hermione laughed. “No, It's fine. He’s always been smart and hard working. He’s not that bad, really.” 

“Wow,” Harry whistled, “I didn’t realize you’d bonded so much.” 

She ruffled his hair. “Oh shut up, Harry. If you must know, we bonded over potting to kick Terry into the lake.” 

Harry laughed and they began commiserating about all of the annoying things Terry had managed to do just that week. 

* * *

**Sunday, October 18**

**Draco**

“I think they’re just through here... At least that’s where they were in my dreams....” 

Luna floated through the forest in front of Draco. He’d spent years learning how to walk stealthily but to Luna, it seemed, it came naturally. 

She stopped suddenly and he almost crashed into her. 

“What?” 

She stared dreamily into the dense forest. 

“Never mind. I thought I caught the feeling of a Pegasus.” 

He rolled his eyes as she continued forward. Luna was a pain in the ass. He’d been in a foul mood all weekend thanks to a particularly insolent letter from his father. His plan had been to retreat to the Hogs Head for the day and drink himself into oblivion but Luna had had other plans. She’d marched right up to the Slytherin table at breakfast and informed him that he would be escorting her to the Forest to feed the Thestrals and greet the newborns. 

_“I’m sorry, what?” He’d asked her, his mouth full of toast._

_“Hagrid told me there are new foals and I like to meet all of them,” she said as thought it cleared everything right up._

_“But what does that have to do with me?”_

_She sighed loftily and set an empty bucket on the table between him and Theo. “Excuse me, Theodore. Do you mind? Those Danishes look delicious.” Theo and Draco peered into the bucket which was stained suspiciously red._

_Theo gaped at her and nudged the Second Year next to him so that he could scoot down and make room for her._

_She sat down and helped herself to an assortment of pastries, humming a tune he didn’t recognize. Theo leaned back and gave him a look and mouthed “What the hell?”_

_Draco shrugged and turned back to Luna. “Look, Lovegood, if you want to go feed the Thestrals, that’s fine, but I don’t think it involves me.”_

_“Oh, but you’ll be accompanying me. I think it would do you some good and I don’t feel like going alone today.”_

_He gaped at her. “Luna... That’s... I have other plans.”_

_“No, you don’t, Draco. This is what you’re doing today. It’s been ages since we’ve spent time together and I think I could really use your friendship today.”_

He hadn't really been able to argue with her after that. She’d continued humming her song and stared up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. Saturday’s weather had miraculously survived. He supposed it wasn’t the worst way to spend a Sunday morning. Besides, it couldn’t take all day. There would be plenty of time for drinking later. 

So they had ventured down to the forest. He’d loitered awkwardly in the background while she made small talk with Hagrid. The gamekeeper had eyed him suspiciously and asked her in a not so quiet whisper if she needed him to accompany her to keep her safe. Luna flounced off towards the forest and called back at him that Draco was no more dangerous than a Blast Ended Skrewt. Draco had thought this didn’t really help his reputation but Hagrid seemed to find it amusing and waved at them as they walked away. 

Luna finally led him into a clearing and positively oohed and ahhed. This must be the place. She sat down on a log and motioned him over. He sat next to her and shielded his eyes from the bright sun. 

After a few minutes he heard a subtle rustling and looked to his left. He was fairly sure he saw a pair of eyes through the darkness of the trees. 

He’d always been able to see the Thestrals. Or at least he had since second year, the first time he’d come face to face with them. He’d never told anyone. An older boy standing near the carriages had told his group of Second Years what they were and the conditions on which one could see them. He’d been there when his grandmother had passed away when he was very young. He hadn’t really wanted to talk about his Grandmother or the fact that he could see them. He remembered when Hagrid had presented them during a lesson Fifth Year. He’d pretended he couldn’t see them then as well. 

Luna informed him that the Thestrals were a bit shyer this year. Hagrid and McGonagall had decided not to use them for the carriages due to the fact that a significantly larger portion of the students would be able to see them. But several students had encountered them in the forest the interactions had caused great distress to all parties involved. 

Draco had barely had time to register the implications of this before Luna had offered him the bucket of dead creatures to offer the Thestrals. 

Some of them seemed to know Luna and immediately came up to greet her. A few others slowly came up. Draco wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about them. They were very creepy. But after biting a rodent out of his hand and stayed to nuzzle it, Draco couldn’t honestly say he hated the experience. The foals, it turned out, were fairly cute. They wobbled around on their new legs and nipped at each other. Luna played with them as she fed them, making them jump up in the air. They reminded him of the puppies he’d begged his mother to let him get when he was small. 

Finally, all the food was gone. Luna greeted each Thestral and talked to several of them. She’d tried to convince Draco to go for a ride. He’d flat out refused. Finally the Thestrals all retreated back into the cover of trees. 

Luna sank back onto the log and began humming again. She reached into her shirt and began fiddling with a ring on a necklace. He inspected it. It was a huge opal, surrounded by a halo of yellow diamonds. As both a Malfoy and a child growing up around pureblood families, he recognized the piece as very valuable and likely very old. 

“That’s quite beautiful, Luna. Have you always had that?” 

She inspected it took it off her neck and handed it to him. 

“No, it was given to me quite recently.” 

“Well, it certainly looks like an heirloom. Who gave it to you?” 

“I don’t think I'll say quite yet.” She stood up and began to walk out of the clearing. 

He followed her, still clutching the ring on its chain. 

“So you mean you’ll tell me eventually?” 

“Oh yes, I suspect quite soon.” 

He rolled his eyes. You could always count on Luna to make even the most mundane things sound ominous. 

They walked out of the forest and back to the castle in silence. 

As they rounded Hagrid’s hut Draco noticed a small group of students sitting on the rocks near the edge of the lake. Two vibrant heads of red hair gesticulated wildly while a boy with black hair (Potter, he assumed) threw his head back in apparent laughter. He noticed Granger sitting a little way down ignoring them reading a large book. 

Luna caught his gaze. 

“Hermione told me she’s befriended you.” 

He huffed, “I don’t know that I'd call it that. We’re Herbology partners. And we share a great hatred of Terry Boot.” 

“Well whatever you want to call it, I think it’s nice. You bring out a fire in her, you know?” 

He really didn’t know what to say to this, so he said nothing. 

Finally he asked the question he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back all morning. 

“Why can’t she get their memories back? Granger’s parents, I mean.” 

Luna studied him. “In order to determine if their memories _can_ be restored, the healers first have to determine how deep the memories are buried. Up until this point, the healers haven’t had much success triggering any memories. At this point, it’s up to Hermione to decided on the resources she wants to invest in further experimentation.” 

“Resources?” he asked. 

“Yes, now it’s really just a matter of time and money.” 

* * *

**Author’s Note**

* “I will not let you down.” Random note… but for some reason I pictured her saying this with a similar intensity a la Eunice’s iconic “I’m so there it’s insane” line in She’s the Man. Carry on.


	10. Don’t Torture Yourself on My Account

**Author’s Note**

I don’t own Harry Potter. Otherwise Harry and Ron would have been a bit kinder to Neville before he got all badass.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Don’t Torture Yourself on My Account**

* * *

**Thursday, October 22**

**Ron**

“...and you just know something like that is likely to come up on NEWTs. I can’t believe Professor Flitwick is only telling us about it now there’s no way we’ll be able to master it or even just become familiar enough with the theory to... I mean, of course I knew about them, but I assumed they were so advanced that there’s no way they’d be on our exams...” 

Ron stared absentmindedly at Hermione. Harry and Ginny’s eyes were glossed over but she’d been in a mood all day and he knew neither of them dared to tell her to shut up. She’d been all wound up ever sine Flitwick had told them about dual-wizard spells (spells that were so powerful that they needed two magical beings to successfully cast). 

He couldn’t decide if he wanted her to shut up or not. Truth be told, he was starting to get a little worried about the end of year exams. Sure, he didn’t need good marks to be an Auror, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to do well. No one wanted to fail. Well no one except Fred and George. And her endless stressing was putting him on edge. But if she stopped blabbering... Well, he’d have no reason to look at her. And he’d certainly not be able to get away with it unless Harry and Ginny were lulled into a coma of boredom. 

She’d been waving a spoon around for at least three minutes6. Every time she went to dip her spoon in her soup she thought of another thing to freak out over. She’d flung soup all over the table, absentmindedly. It was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. 

Ron gave her a lot of flak for being a know it all, but he never thought she was more adorable than when she was wound up into a tight ball of exam stress. Her hair was extra frizzy from all the times she’d run her fingers through it in stress throughout the day. Her eyes were wild with that “I have to go to the library” look. 

And her mouth... That was the reason he’d Avada anyone who dared try to shut her up, even if she was telling Hagrid to try breeding Blast Ended Skrewts again. As long as she was talking he had an excuse to watch her mouth. He thought about the last time they’d kissed. It had been on the way back from Hogsmeade. She’d been all warm and fuzzy from the Butterbeer and had kissed him on the cheek, thanking him for the drinks. In a moment of confidence he’d grabbed her hand and kept her from turning away. He’d grabbed her chin and held it in place, looking into those large brown eyes. He prayed for strength, pretended he was Charlie, and leaned in and snogged her so good he hoped he’d remember it until he died. It had been innocent enough, no one’s hands left the other’s hair, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. 

She was a goooooood kisser. If he was being honest, he didn’t have a lot to compare to, but he thought it was one of those things that was universally easy to identify. Lavender had been frantic. He’d liked it at the time but now... And the muggle girl from the village after Sixth Year had been sloppy. Hermione was... well he didn’t like to think about it too much. Anytime he wondered about her kissing skills horrible images of her shoved in a corner, tangled with the limbs with Krum or McClaggen jumped to mind. He decided it was likely a negenik trait. Or whatever she’d said about “the building blocks of life,” that one time. 

Regardless, all he knew was that he wanted to get her alone again. 

Harry had been a good friend. He hadn’t said anything to either of them about their outing. Nor had Ginny. He suspected this was a favor to Harry as Ginny had never before failed to tease him about anything. But he was thankful for it. It was awkward, going from friend to... something else. He didn’t really know what to do. Should he ask her to study with him instead of just plopping down next to her? She was definitely the type that wanted a bit of pomp and pageantry. But he also suspected she’d feel awkward if everything changed overnight. Could they just be friends that exclusively snogged all the time? 

“Ronald?” 

“Huh?” He was jolted from his daydreams. 

“Would. You. Like. To. Go. For. A. Walk.” She practically shouted at him. He internally grimaced, imagining the sound carrying to twenty people on either side of them. 

“With you?” 

“YES.” She seethed, slurping her soup. 

“Now?” he blurted stupidly. 

“Well after dinner obviously. You haven’t eaten a thing and I don’t fancy waking up the Giant Squid with your roaring stomach.” 

Was it suddenly hot as balls? No? Just him? He grunted a yes at her and went to work on his chicken determinedly avoiding the gazes of Harry, Ginny, and Neville. 

The chocolate mousse had no taste. What was wrong with those elves? He tried the pie. Similarly bland. Why is everything so damn... he was distracted as Hermione applied some of that minty muggle lip balm she liked while she went on about the latest developments with her parents. He’d borrowed it once and it had made his lips tingle. _What if both of our lips were tingling?_ He mentally shook himself. _Pay. Attention. You. Stupid. Oaf._

After forcing down two pieces of pie he grunted at Hermione and she rolled her eyes following out of the Great Hall. 

The sun was about to set. It was quite nice out. And by nice he meant that there was a cool breeze that would likely force them to combine body heat to stay warm. She shivered and he mentally took a shot of Firewhiskey before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She gave him a knee meltingly warm smile. He decided to take more of an interest in the environmentalism issues Hermione was always talking about. Clearly there was a benefit to ensuring the planet survived and didn’t get too warm. He wasn’t sure how pollution affected the sun and changing of the seasons, but it was probably worth investigating. 

They chatted, walking around the lake. After a half hour or so she guiltily pulled out a few bottles of butterbeer from her bag. He asked about her parents and he regaled her with tales from Charlies’ latest letter. She told him she thought he’d really thrive helping his brother after graduation. He said that he thought fighting dark wizards was probably more important. She sighed and said that anyone could analyze the patterns of dark wizards but it took a real man to help defenseless creatures. His heart soared. She told him about some animated musical she’d watched over the summer about a female warrior. 

They watched the sun set over the lake holding hands quietly and for a few minutes Ron forgot about the last year entirely. 

* * *

**Sunday, October 25**

**Hermione**

S _ _ M _ N 

“E” Ron guessed. 

“two of em!” Harry drew in the Es. 

“Wait a minute.....” Ron said as Harry began giggling. “I’m not saying that out loud!” 

“Shhhh,” Hermione whispered and Ron and Harry shot her guilty looks. 

Ron had insisted on accompanying her to the library to study but had quickly become bored. Harry had tagged along because Ginny was busy with other friends that afternoon. But exactly 37 minutes in they had both become bored and had started playing magical hangman. It was one of the joke products George had sent Harry. Like Wizard Chess, the soon-to-be-hanged man threw insults and suggestions at the players and, to Hermione’s horror, made very realistic gagging and groaning noises if the player lost. 

“You have to! It’s the rules!” Harry whispered. Apparently the game didn’t officially end until the guessing player (or someone) said the word out loud. Otherwise, the poor game man would just dangle there. 

“You’re such a prat!” 

Harry cackled and Hermione hit him. 

“If you can’t be quiet then you need to leave. I actually have quite a bit to do and I need to focus!” 

“Sorry” they said in unison. 

“Well you’ll have to forfeit if you’re too chicken.” 

“You’re missing an ‘A,’” Ginny said looking over Harry’s shoulder. 

“Ginny!” Harry faked being mad. They both giggled. 

“I’m not saying it. It’s dirty!” 

“It’s not dirty!” Ginny said rolling her eyes. “At least that spelling isn’t. Stop being such a prude!” 

“Ugh, Harry, Gin is rubbing off on you,” Ron grumbled. 

“You’re right, I do--” 

“Okay, fine I'll say it if you don’t finish that sentence!” Finally Ron, accepting defeat, said out loud, “seamen.” 

The whole group, save Hermione, fell into fits of giggles. Neville and Dean had popped over and were laughing too. 

Hermione slammed her book shut. 

“Get out!” After a bit of arguing an irate Madam Pince came over and yelled at the whole lot of them and banished all the gigglers from the library. 

_Finally. Some peace and quiet._

She had just reopened her book and picked up where she’d left off when a chair scraped next to her. 

“Ronald,” she spat, “we can hang out _later_. Go. Away.” 

“Ouch. If that’s how you treat someone you’re dating, I'd hate to see how you treat your enemies,” a sarcastic voice drawled and Malfoy plopped himself into the chair next to her, setting down several large books. 

“Well,” she looked at him scathingly, “you should know.” 

“Ouch, Granger. And here I thought we’d started to be friends.” 

She rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to study. If you’ve come to antagonize me, I’ll politely ask you to save it for another time. I’m very behind.” 

“Well only since you asked so nicely,” he chuckled and opened one of his books. 

“What are you doing?” she asked exasperatedly. 

“I’m researching. Certainly that’s allowed in a library.” 

“Oh shove it. I mean why are you doing it here, at my table,” she gestured around her. 

“I wasn’t aware Madam Pince reserved tables for students, no matter how much ass they ki--” 

“Malfoy! I. Am. Busy. Please save your insults for tomorrow when you have my undivided attention in Herbology.” 

“Oh come on, Granger I'm just having fun.” 

“Yes, well I am trying to study!” she shot him a glare. 

“Okay, fine. I didn’t come over here to antagonize you.” He sighed very heavily, “I could use a favor.” 

Hermione shut her book and looked at him. He didn’t meet her eye. He was staring very intently at the book he was supposed to be reading: _Salted or Fresh? Magical Water Creatures and Their Uses in and Out of the Kitchen._

“I didn’t know you were taking Care of Magical Creatures,” she said, curious. 

“I’m not. I never really liked it that much.” 

She scoffed, “that much was always clear. I just always assumed it was because of Hagrid.” 

“Well, he didn’t help...” 

She hit him. “If you need my help don’t start by insulting Hagrid.” 

“Yeah, yeah okay.” He absentmindedly flipped a page. 

“Malfoy. I am busy. Spit it out. What do you need?” 

“Well...” he looked pained. “I actually need your help _and_ Hagrid’s.” 

She stared blankly at him. This would be good. 

“You know how I’m on the committee for the blasted all school common room?” she nodded. “Well we decided that each house would have a wall decorated in a fashion similar to that of their common room. In Slytherin we have huge windows looking into the--” 

“Looking into the lake. And it gives everything a creepy green glow,” Hermione finished for him. 

“I’d call it relaxing, not creepy. How do you know?” 

She waved him off. “Never mind that. How does this involve me and Hagrid?” 

“Well we’re going to do the same for one of the walls in the school common. I’ve been tasked with identifying creatures to include and methods in which to keep them alive.” 

“An aquarium,” she supplied. 

“Yes, a very big one.” 

“And?” 

“Well, I never particularly paid that much attention to the readings we did on water creatures in class...” he shrugged when she gave him a scathing look. “And anyway, even if I did, I wouldn’t know how to go about obtaining the creatures we decide on. The girls want to be authentic to the lake since that’s what we have in Slytherin. But they _insisted_ that the environment be humane since they will have so much less space.” He seemed very annoyed by the whole thing. “And, as much as it pains me to say it, there’s no one that knows more about the living things on the grounds as much as Hagrid. And I would guess that he also knows where I could start in terms of... obtaining them.” 

She stared at him. “Okay, and this involves me how?” 

“Well, it’s probably safe to say that Hagrid doesn’t consider me his favorite student.” 

She scoffed, “Oh, the understatement of the year.” 

“Yes, well. He adores you and I thought you might pass along my request.” 

“And?” 

“And what?” 

“What, pray tell, would you have me do once he has been given your message?” 

“Well I figured you could bring me his response. Please, I mean,” he added after seeing her glare. 

“I’m not an owl,” she replied coldly, turning back to her book. 

“Please?” 

“No.” 

“Come on, what do I have to do? I don’t know where to start.” 

She sighed heavily and shut her book and began clearing up her things. She wasn’t getting anything done this afternoon. 

“Fine. I’ll help. BUT--” 

“Thank you so much, Granger.” 

“BUT you will have to come with me to Hagrid’s to ask,” she said standing up. 

“WHAT?!” he said loudly. Madam Pince shushed them angrily and gave Hermione a disappointed look. 

“You heard me. You’ve been almost as horrible to Hagrid as you have been to me. If you want his help you’re going to have to apologize.” 

She heard him scoff. “He’ll never agree to help once he knows it’s for me.” 

“Well if he was going to flat out refuse for you, then what difference does it make if I'm the one to ask for you?” 

She heard him mumble something about leaving him out of it. 

“Oh I see. You wanted me to _lie_? Surely you know me better than that. At the very least by reputation.” She raised an eyebrow at him and she was pleased that he looked annoyed. 

“Well it never hurts to try.” He looked at her pleadingly but she glared back at him. “FINE you win.” 

“Great,” she said, turning on her heel and marching out of the library. “Saturday at 2 PM. Meet me at his cabin. See you tomorrow, Malfoy.” 

Ignoring his flabbergasted expression she walked quickly, hoping that she would be able to lose him on the way to Gryffindor Tower. 

She heard someone quietly scurrying behind her. 

“Hold on. Saturday is way too soon. And you can’t expect me to just knock on his door!” 

“Of course I can,” she said impatiently. “Look. Harry, Ron and I will be there for lunch that afternoon after Gryffindor Quidditch practice. He’ll be in a great mood since we haven’t seen him in a while and he loves hearing about the team’s progress. Harry and Ron will leave and the two of us can discuss your aquarium. Plus he loves all creatures and I'm sure he’d love to discuss the various creatures in the lake and how to obtain them humanely. He’s been working with Charlie Weasley and the Ministry to rectify all sorts of horrible situations regarding the treatment of magical creatures since the end of the war. And if you offer to let him help with the installation he absolutely will not be able to refuse. He told us Sixth Year that he always wishes that underwater spells work on him so that he could do more in the lake.” 

“Well... you at least have to promise me you’ll upfront it with him and get him to agree. I don’t fancy trekking all the way down there just to have him slam the door in my face.” 

She rolled her eyes. 

“You can tell him all about how I'm reformed and... what did you call it? ‘Not quite the devil’s spawn?’” 

She huffed but did think that he had a point. Springing this on Hagrid wasn’t the best idea. His temper was only second to Ron’s. 

“Fine.” 

“Great.” 

“Well, I'm this way,” she said pointing in the direction of Gryffindor. 

“Right. See you tomorrow.” 

* * *

**Saturday, October 30**

**Draco**

Theo was in a rare good mood. Some of the prisoners in the low security area of Azkaban made a disturbance so the warden cancelled all visits. In another stroke of luck, he’d finished the batch of research he had and the Auror he was working with was on holiday so they hadn’t sent him anymore. All of this put together meant that he’d bounded into the boys’ dormitory at half past 8 with coffees and brooms and dragged Draco onto the Pitch before the House teams started practicing. After that he’d insisted on dragging he and Pansy into Hogsmeade for shopping and drinking. 

It had been an almost perfect day. It felt almost like before. He and Theo argued about Quidditch teams all the way down to Hogsmeade. Pansy pretended to ignore them but chiming in every once in a while. She bought them each jumpers in Quality Quidditch Supplies. The shop had partnered with a London designer to make a custom line for Hogwarts students. Draco had tried to talk her out of it but she flat out put her foot down and told him he wasn’t allowed to wear black or gray to another match the rest of the year. Theo bought them all a month’s worth of candy (or a week’s worth in Pansy’s case). Neither of them wanted books or quills so Draco bought them several rounds at the Hog’s Head. Pansy put up a fuss but he absolutely refused to go into the Three Broomsticks (he was in far too good a mood to ruin it by being kicked out by Rosmerta). The spent about an hour telling funny stories about Snape after Pansy opened up his newly minted Chocolate Frog Card. They decided the best was a tie between the time Snape had to teach them dancing for the Yule Ball or the time Fifth Year when he had to oversee Madam Pomfrey’s sex education seminar. 

Draco checked his watch and groaned. It was 1:30. He'd have to head up to Hagrid’s soon. 

He ordered one more for the road (thank you, transfiguration) and dumped some gold on the table. 

Theo and Pansy wished him luck and he slumped off. 

As he approached Hagrid’s cabin his light mood evaporated. He saw Granger, Weasley, and Potter laughing raucously at something inside. They looked so carefree. It reminded him that they had a reason to. And that he didn’t. He rubbed his temples. _What was I thinking? I’ll just owl Grubbly-Plank._ Granger had never told him how the conversation went and he’d been too scared to ask her. Probably because Hagrid had flat out refused and she’d decided to try and convince him today. Yes, that was the type of thing to do. She wouldn’t have told him because she’s a shit liar and too stubborn to let her savior complex go by the wayside. _Ugh. She’ll be irate if I ditch..._ He’d almost decided it was worth her wrath when he snuck one last glance through the window only to catch her eye. He groaned. She smiled a wide warm smile and waved subtly while Potter and Weasley argued animatedly about something. _Well fuck. I have to go now._

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Immediately he heard the chatter dissipate. He heard chairs scrape and what he thought was Granger threatening Weasley. The door wrenched open and he stared up at Hagrid. He’d always thought Hagrid was kind of dopey and harmless, despite his size. Now, however, he wondered how he’d ever taken it for granted how truly terrifying he was. He was definitely too large to be allowed. Draco tried to arrange his face into a polite smile and Hagrid glared down at him suspiciously. 

Granger poked her head around Hagrid. “Hey Malfoy!” 

He grunted at her. 

“Hagrid, I think it would be nice to offer Malfoy a drink, don’t you think?” 

Hagrid grunted and stepped aside just enough for Draco to squeeze inside sideways. Potter and Weasley were arm wrestling. Once Weasley won they turned to see him. Potter smiled at him politely and Weasley ignored his presence. Granger raised an eyebrow at Weasley and rolled her eyes. He suspected she’d threatened him to be nice and this was as good as he could muster. 

Draco endured one of the longest silences he’d ever experienced before Granger cleared her throat and looked pointedly at Potter. “Harry, didn’t you and Ron need to go over those plays again?” 

“Oh, right...” Potter was also a terrible liar. “C’mon Ron. Let’s get out of here. See you at dinner Hermione.” 

After they left Draco tried to casually take in his surroundings, all the while aware that Hagrid was glaring at him. Granger shoved a glass of what he assumed was Firewhiskey and motioned for him to sit down. He did so reluctantly and took a long sip. It wasn’t Firewhiskey but it was very good Scotch. He made a mental note to thank Granger later and ask her about the brand. 

He snuck a glance at Granger who was giving Hagrid an impatient and pleading look. He grumbled and collapsed into a chair which groaned and creaked at his weight. He noticed that Granger was now staring at him expectantly. He took another sip for courage and looked Hagrid in the eyes. He realized he didn’t know if he’d ever actually made eye contact with him. Though Hagrid’s eyes were narrowed in his direction he thought that they looked kind. For such black eyes they were quite warm. 

He took a deep breath. “Uh, Professor Hagrid... First I wanted to thank you for agreeing to meet with me and inviting me into your home. I know that... the relationship between you and... my family leaves less than to be desired... I assume Granger told you about the project I'm working on and I thought you would have the expertise and passion to help me make it a success.” 

Hagrid huffed. Granger smiled at him encouragingly. 

He took another sip and then, abandoning all of his pride he leaned onto the table with his head in his hand. 

“Look, I know that I've acted like a true ass the entire time I've been at Hogwarts. When I got here I was a spoiled brat, obsessed with pleasing my father which turned out to be an impossible task. It’s not an excuse, but I was young and I couldn’t win over my father, but I could win over the rest of the Slytherins and that was hard to give up. Obviously I've never treated you with the respect you deserve. And for that I apologize. Even before you were a professor you were still an authority figure and my mother would disown me if she knew about some of my actions towards you. Especially my involvement with the rumors Fourth Year...” 

He chanced a look up. Hagrid was studying his mug. Granger was beaming at him. 

_Well in for a knut..._

He cleared his throat and continued. “And of course, I owe all of wizard kind an apology for my involvement in the War. There's not much to say that I haven’t already publicly, but you should know that I deeply regret my actions and ability to get wrapped up with the Dark Lord. Though I still don’t really think I had a choice, I have wished every day for the past two years that I had had enough balls to take my mother and flee the country. I only ever wanted to survive and to keep her alive. And obviously if I could go back I would put all my trust in Severus and let him help me. I know how close you were to Professor Dumbledore and I know it’s my fault he’s dead and I’ll never be able to change that. I can’t do anything to bring him back, but if I could, I’d do anything. But I wanted you to know how much I hate myself for that.” He didn’t think he’d said any of that since his trial. It felt like puking up poison. It was painful and you want to die, but you hope f you can get it out it’ll be marginally better. He glanced up at the ceiling to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Just as he thought he could never feel like a bigger shit than he already did, he noticed a bundle of feathers and resisted the urge to just Avada himself on the spot. 

“And, I’d also like to apologize for Buckbeak. I was absolutely in the wrong on that one and the poor animal never deserved to die for my stupidity.” 

He looked back down at the two of them. Granger’s eyes were wet. _Oh for Merlin’s sake, don’t weep._ Weepy women made him uncomfortable. Hagrid mumbled something he didn’t catch. Draco was afraid to speak. 

Hagrid cleared his throat, “He didn’t.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Beaky’s still alive. Hermione and Harry saved him.” 

Draco actually laughed. 

“Malfoy!” Granger seethed. 

Hagrid sat up angrily. “Think that’s funny do you?” 

“I just... I was just thinking about how incensed my father would be if he knew. Sorry, I know it’s not a laughing matter.” 

Hagrid chuckled. “Yes, I suppose he’d probably try to break out.” 

Granger looked between them nervously. 

Finally Hagrid set down his mug and put out his hand. Draco shook it tentatively. 

“Look, Malfoy,” he said gruffly. “I don't really trust yeh but I respect that yeh came down here an' apologized. An’ Hermione said ye’ve been decent to her so I guess I’m willing to try an’ start fresh.” 

“Oh, well, thank you, sir. I appreciate the chance.” 

Another awkward silence. 

“Well Hermione told me about your project. What kinda creatures are you looking for?” 

Draco pulled out his book and showed him some of the fish that he’d thought would be okay. He was surprised at how normal everything seemed after they started talking about magical creatures. About an hour and a half (and about three drinks) later Hagrid had given him the names of a few people he could contact about acquiring the fish as well as some tips for how the habitat should be set up. 

Once they’d finished Draco thanked Hagrid and Granger offered to walk back up to the castle with him. While she was in the loo Hagrid rounded on him. 

“Now, look here Malfoy,” Hagrid whispered as he towered over Draco. “I am happy the help yeh with a school project an’ I still meant what I said about tryin’ te start fresh. But I’m warnin’ yeh that if yeh so much as cause Hermione to lose a wink of sleep yeh’ll be sorry. That girl is far too good for yeh and she has enough teh be getting' along with without getting’ tangled up in your messes.” 

Draco stared at him wide eyed. “Uh, Granger and I are just Herbology partners. I asked for her help today because you’re close.” 

Hagrid narrowed his eyes further. “Jus remember what I said if yer ever getting' any ideas.” 

Draco had opened his mouth to ask what “ideas” he should be getting when Granger bounded out of the washroom and gave Hagrid a huge hug and bid him goodbye. Draco nodded to Hagrid who grumbled to himself and turned away. 

Granger practically skipped up the path towards the castle while Draco brooded. Was he crazy or did Hagrid just give him the overly protective dad speech? He racked his brain to think if there was anything he’d said or done since getting there that would have indicated he wanted to date her. He cringed at the thought. He wasn’t disgusted by her or anything. She was definitely good looking. Maybe not the best in their year, but certainly decent. Plus, she was interesting and smart (something he’d learned quickly matters a lot than a teenage boy would have believed). But he didn’t have to want to date someone to assess their attractiveness. But he wasn’t interested in her - or anyone for that matter. It was the truth. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a “dalliance” and it was really the last thing on his mind right now. Plus if he was going to hook up with someone it wouldn’t be the Gryffindor princess. Not only would that be far too much work for a casual fling, but he preferred to only take shots he thought he could realistically land. Besides, he’d been joking about the whole “getting punched by all three of the Golden Trio” thing. He very much appreciated the tentative civility he now shared with Potter and somehow suspected trying to seduce his essentially-sister would negate that. And Weasley would throw a fit. And even if he wasn’t particularly scared of either of them, he certainly didn’t want to test Hagrid’s threat... He remembered the way Hagrid had carried him up to the Hospital wing Third Year and conjured an image of Hagrid holding him up by the collar of his robes and beating him senseless... He mentally shook himself as he registered that Granger was looking over at him, clearly waiting for something. 

“What?” he drawled, trying to sound casual. 

She rolled her eyes. “I was just saying that that went well.” 

“Oh, yes. I think so. Thank you again for smoothing it over.” 

“I didn’t do anything. He was planning on telling you to shove off but I think you’re little speech put him over the edge.” 

_I fucking thought so._

“So you just let me walk into a trap?” 

She shrugged. “I thought you’d be able to convince him.” 

He huffed. 

“And I was right. That was really nice what you said to him. Hagrid is stubborn and volatile but he is also honorable and he recognizes when someone is trying to do the right thing.” 

_Yeah yeah yeah. Everyone celebrate Draco because he wasn’t quite as much of a shit as he usually is._

They walked along in more silence. They passed into the quad and Granger giggled. 

“Something funny Granger?” 

“I just think it’s... If you’d told me then...” He raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled mischievously and grabbed his arm and dragged him over to a corner that overlooked Hagrid’s cabin. “Remember the last time we were here?” 

He turned around and tried to think if he and Granger had ever been alone together before. “No.... What are you on about? Maybe we should cut you off. You seem to get loopy when you drink.” 

She rolled her eyes and hit him on the shoulder. “Think. Third Year. Crabbe and Goyle were with you. I was heading down to Hagrid’s with Harry and Ron....” she raised her eyebrows at him. 

And it dawned on him and he felt his face redden. “YOU PUNCHED ME!” 

She giggled and shrugged. “Well you were being awful and I was... on a very short string that year. And I lost it. I have to say, it’s one of my favorite memories...” she looked off into the distance in mock nostalgia. 

“Oh fuck off Granger. That hurt. I’m pretty sure I have a scar from your rings.” 

“I don’t really wear jewelry,” she said waving her fingers in front of his face. 

“Well, still it was...” 

“Don’t tell me it was uncalled for because it 1,000% was. And if you screw up our Herbology project I'll do it again. And I'll warn you, I'm stronger now.” She tried to look intimidating and he knew she wasn’t being funny and it made him double up with laughter. 

“I’m shaking in my boots, princess.” 

She scoffed and turned around towards the castle. He caught up to her and grabbed her arm. 

“Granger, wait.” 

She glared at him and he had to bite back another bout of laughter. She really didn’t look intimidating at all. Either there was a side to her he wasn’t seeing or Weasley was just a sissy. 

After a long moment he realized he was still holding her arm. He dropped it quickly and she stared at her arm as though he’d burned it. 

“Uh, you should know, I meant what I said. To Hagrid, I mean.” 

“I know you did.” 

“Well I just thought you should know that it wasn’t an act.” 

She tilted her head at him. “Honestly, Malfoy, I didn’t need to hear that to know you’ve changed. I didn’t need to hear it at the trial either. I was there Sixth Year. You were a horrid person but anyone with eyes... Well anyone paying attention could see you were drowning. You’ve had plenty of chances this year to be awful to me and you’ve... Well you’ve at least restrained yourself.” 

_She was at the trial? I didn’t see her there..._ But in truth he didn’t remember much from the trial. He knew she’d testified about the events at the Manor and recommended for leniency along with Potter but he didn’t know she was there for his testimony. 

“Well, still.” 

“We’re all just trying to move on. We all have our demons. The difference is--” 

“I was on the wrong side.” 

“No, I was going to say that the difference is I don’t walk around trying to convince everyone they should want me dead.” 

He really didn’t know what to say to that so he ignored it 

They walked back through the castle in silence. She bade him goodbye at the turnoff to their respective common rooms. He watched her walk away dissecting her words. And then he realized what he’d forgotten to say. Not even what he’d forgotten to say. What he had never even imagined he’d have the opportunity to say. He sped in the direction she’d walked but realized he didn’t exactly know which corridor lead to the Gryffindor Common Room. He caught sight of a young Gryffindor walking towards him. 

“Gryffindor. Which way?” he barked at him. 

Terrified the boy pointed down a corridor. “Th-that way. Just past the painting of the pixies playing cards.” 

Draco turned left and saw her. “Granger!” thankfully the corridor was empty. 

She turned back, looking surprised. She stopped and waited for him to catch up. 

“Yes, Malfoy?” 

“Uh, I just wanted to say...” she was looking up at him curiously. “I mean... I know that I told Hagrid... You see...” He rubbed the back of his neck. Her curiosity turned to annoyance he knew he had only a few seconds before she abandoned him. _Do it. Say it. Don’t be a bloody coward._ “I wanted to say sorry.” 

“Malfoy, we just went over this. I appreciate what you said to Hagrid but it’s not necessary. You don’t have to torture yourself on my account.” 

“No, I mean I'm sorry for all of the other stuff. The things I said... and did to you... all those years. And for the Manor. And Aunt Bella. You didn’t deserve to be tormented by me. and you didn’t deserve to be tortured either. It was the worst... Well I wanted to... I thought you should know I wish I could...” He didn’t really know what he wished regarding his past and hers. But he knew he wished he could die right now in front of her to save himself from having to look at her curiously sympathetic gaze. 

She opened her mouth and closed it a few times like she was trying to decide what to say. Finally in a very soft voice one might use with an injured bird they didn’t want to scare away she practically whispered,” Thank you, Draco. That’s nice of you to say.” She hesitantly patted his forearm and then rubbed her left arm. “Have a good night okay? We can go over your notes from Hagrid during Herbology next week.” She smiled at him and headed off in the opposite direction. 

Draco turned around and instead of heading down to the dungeons he headed right back to Hogsmeade. 

_What’s another bottle of liquor anyway?_

* * *

**Author's Note**

I'll be back in about a week with November chapters! The pace will probably slow down a bit from here. September and October were completely written, they just needed fine tuning. November and December are about 70% written but I haven't started on the new year. When I'm aiming for a chapter a week from here on out. Thanks for reading :)


	11. There's No Weakness in Forgiveness

**Author's Note**

Thanks to those of you who have left comments or have followed/favorited. I am always trying to improve so constructive criticism is always welcome. <3

* * *

**Chapter 11 – There's No Weakness in Forgiveness***

* * *

**Sunday, November 1**

**Harry**

Harry schlepped up the stairs to his dormitory, wet, tired, and hoarse. It was like the weather automatically knew when October was over. Their first Quidditch practice of the month had been brutal. It reminded him of that first game of the season Third Year when the Dementors were forcing fog and gloom and sleet all over the grounds. Practice had been fine but he'd stayed after to practice privately with one of their new beaters. The enthusiastic Third Year had promising talent but was inexperienced. He was muggle born so he hadn't grown up practicing the sport his entire childhood. He had planned to try out the previous year, but it turned out sports and leisure activities weren't a priority. His father was a national Hockey player so he'd grown up learning evasive action and was comfortable with a certain level of brute force and physical damage that was required as a beater. Overall, the session had been good, even without the unfortunate weather. It had made Harry miss the DA. He really had enjoyed teaching. There was something about it that made him forget everything else. He wondered if maybe he could…

His train of thought was interrupted as he practically fell into the Eighth Year room only to be accosted by Seamus.

"Oi, Harry. This owl's driving me mad. Stupid buggar has been pestering me but won't let me take the letter from him. Would you shut him up so I can have a nap?"

Harry looked at the owl which was glaring at him from his desk. It was an official post owl. He suspected he knew who it was from, which made him feel uneasy and guilty.

The owl hooted impatiently and he reached out for the letter and gave the owl a treat. It flew out the window, managing to scatter the pages on Harry's desk and going out of its way to hit Seamus over the head with one of its long wings. Seamus let out a string of profanities and yanked the coverings on his four poster closed.

Harry looked at the front of the letter which included a return address and muggle postage. He threw it in his desk with the others, noting its slightly heavier weight. Pretending not to be curious, he kicked off his shoes, and flung himself onto his bed. Brooding, he stared up at the ceiling, remembering the conversation he'd had with Ginny the last time one had been delivered.

" _Honestly, Harry, either throw them out or read them. You don't get to be mad it took him so long to be civil to you and then mad when he actually follows through. He keeps writing for a reason. Maybe it's time you figured out what it was. But if I have to spend one more evening watching you obsess over them like it's the Prince's potions book all over again, I might just break up with you."_

If he was being honest, he was mildly curious. But… He wasn't ready to forgive yet. And if he read them, didn't that mean he had to?

Sighing deeply, he reached over into the drawer and pulled out the stack of letters. The first one was the hardest to ignore. He'd gotten halfway through ripping it open before chickening out and avoiding it. It was like a loose thread on a sweater that he wanted desperately to pull.

He had been surprised when he'd received Dudley's first letter. It had been, a good day. One of the first okay ones after the battle. Hermione had spent all day cooking a huge feast. "Christmas in June," she'd told he and Ron. She knitted horrible stockings for the three of them and filled them with all their favorite sweets. She'd decided they should celebrate all the things they'd missed.

Next, she'd recorded a soccer match where the players had red and green uniforms and forced the three of them to watch it in their Gryffindor gear as though it was the Gryffindor-Slytherin game. Harry had roared with laughter as Hermione (who he was confident had never watched a single game) tried to explain the rules to an aggravated Ron. Interestingly, Ginny had loved it and went to several matches that summer. She was committed to going to a home game of all of the teams in England so she could decide who to support. Currently, she was rooting for Arsenal and Blackpool*, but was still deciding. She followed soccer almost as ferverently as Quidditch now. He suspected it had a little to do with the fact that no one in England had played Quidditch professionally since the prior summer.

They'd also celebrated all of their birthdays. Hermione, while a decent cook, was a terrible baker. Harry routinely gave her hell about it. It seemed to him that it was basically the same as potions, a subject at which she excelled. But they ate all of the birthday cakes that summer, made wishes, and pretended they were normal teenagers. That's why they had worked so hard to make her birthday so special this year. He smiled at the memory.

He looked at the remaining letters and sighed. The thought of Hermione is what finally made him decide to read them. He remembered how she'd checked in with all the Slytherins after the battle after she learned many of the Order members were ignoring them. She'd been incensed they were being ignored and had very forcefully ripped a plate of pastries away from Mrs. Weasley to take over to them.

After an article was published in the Prophet detailed how many parents of younger Slytherin students were considering transferring their students to other schools, she'd been the first of the three of them to march into Hogwarts. Neither Harry nor Ron had been brave enough to return, even though there was much work to do. She'd demanded McGonagall give her the names of all of the incoming First, Second, and Third Years and spent the next six weeks hand writing letters to each of them encouraging them to stay at Hogwarts and reassuring them that there was nothing to fear and letting them know that she'd be there if they ever were afraid.

Ron had been furious when she decided to testify at Malfoy's trial. He'd screamed himself hoarse at Harry, accusing him of coercing her into it. In fact, Harry had purposely not told either of them about the trial. Hermione had insisted on testifying on far more Death Eaters trials than was necessary. The Ministry only requested their presence at trials in which the defendants' guilt was murky. Hermione had insisted on being at every single one, braving evil stares and hissed vulgarities. She had nightmares every night after each trial. She didn't say anything, but after seven years, Harry knew what it looked like when she hadn't slept. She'd decided to testify on behalf of Malfoy two days after the trial of Fenrir Greyback, which had caused her to barely sleep for three days. She'd woken up screaming with nightmares of the day at Malfoy Manor each night and then refused to go back to sleep. Ron had stayed up with her each time. He hadn't spoken to Harry for over a week and flat out refused to go to the trial after begging Hermione to stop testifying. She'd flat out refused, saying that it was her duty as someone on the front line to provide as much information for the record as possible. She'd borrowed a pensive from the Ministry to go through all of her memories from the Battle so that she could provide detailed notes of the actions and whereabouts of all of the Death Eaters that were there. Kingsley had offered to have the Aurors review her memories, but she said that if she was going to testify against someone it was only fair that she faced the memories. It had nearly killed Ron to see her blank expression at dinner that whole week while she reviewed her own memories. Not even Harry would do that.

If Hermione could face those things, it was the least he could do to read the letters Dudley had sent. True, Dudley had never apologized for anything, and he didn't think that a lack of hostility counts as kindness. But, he had kept writing… Maybe people did deserve credit just for trying.

After about 20 minutes of brooding and fiddling with the envelope he closed his eyes and ripped open the paper.

_June 25_

_Harry,_

_That Diggle bloke told me if I wrote to this address letters would reach you._

_We're back at the house now. thought you might want to know. Seems like some people came in and smashed up a bunch of stuff. But it doesn't seem like they stole anything. Looks like most of your stuff is still here, anyway._

_Not really sure what else to say. While we were away, Diggle said you couldn't check in, so I thought you might want to know we're okay. Maybe not, I don't know. Anyway, I hope you're okay._

_Dudley_

Harry read the letter three times. Did he care if the Dursleys were okay? He didn't know. He had been relieved they'd agreed to go with the Order after all. He'd told Hermione while they were on the run that it was because he would have been annoyed if the Death Eaters had used them as a bargaining chip. Hermione had scoffed and muttered something about "if that's the story you want to go with…"

He picked up the rest of the pile and sorted them by date.

_July 10_

_Harry,_

_Mum has decided to turn your room into a home gym. She was going to get rid of all your things, but I told her to let me write to you and give you a chance to come for it. She said you have a week before she chucks it._

_It's weird to be back in the house._

_Hope you're doing alright._

_Dudley_

Harry tried to remember what all he'd left in his room. Likely, it was mostly books, supplies, and some old clothing. He tried not to feel sad about the things he'd never see again. He supposed there wasn't anything particularly important. He'd taken everything useful or sentimental with him.

_July 17_

_Harry,_

_I don't know if you're getting these. I don't know how to contact Diggle or anyone else from your world. In case you aren't, or in case you're not ready to see us, I packed up what I could in a couple boxes and hid them in the attic._

_Dad decided to retire, officially. He told Grunnings that he'd been in protective custody, but he said it just felt weird to be back. He negotiated me a job, but I decided to study to take the test to get my qualifications._

_Anyway, let me know if you want your things._

_Dudley_

Harry decided he didn't know what surprised him more: that Dudley had been thoughtful enough to save some of his things or that Dudley thought he might care what Uncle Vernon was up to. He decided not to dwell on it.

_August 1_

_Harry,_

_You'll never guess who turned up. Hestia Jones came to see us. She said she was checking in. She confirmed that the address I have is the right one. I guess I'm not surprised you aren't answering. I know things weren't easy for you. I know we didn't make things easy for you._

_I met a girl. Her name's Laura. I think you'd like her. Mum absolutely loathes her but I don't really care. It made me wonder if you ever had a girlfriend. I never asked._

_I honestly don't really know why I keep writing. I feel like a right tosser. It'd be nice if you wrote back._

_Dudley_

Harry didn't think he could get more surprised, but he supposed he shouldn't have assumed. The surprise of Dudley confiding in him about his girlfriend rivaled the time his parents had come out of his wand during Priori Incantatem. If he was being honest, now he was just curious what the next one said.

_September 4_

_Harry,_

_Look, I get it. You hate us. And you were always broody. And you had good reason. Diggle told us – well he told me about the war and everything. I know you've gone through a lot. But I know you're getting these. And I'm trying. Other than Mum, Dad, and Aunt Marge, you're my only blood family. Just write back, yeah? It's really starting to make me worry if you're alive. But I think Hestia would've told us if you'd chucked it. She stops by every once in a while. She's smart enough not to come by when Mum and Dad are home._

_The house we stayed in didn't have electricity. They used magic to make everything work, but we didn't get a telly or anything. I started reading a lot. Mind you, not anything very smart, but you do what you have to when it's boring_

_I asked her if she'd send me some of your news. Do all the pictures move? Think I'd be allowed to have one of those cameras? It'd be cool to have some moving pictures, even if I have to hide them._

_Anyway, I read about some of the trials you testified at. Some of the articles had quotes and stories. Did you really ride a dragon? And break into a government building? I knew you were always getting into trouble. Mum and Dad always went ballistic when they got one of those letters about the shit you always got into. Maybe one day you'll tell me about the dragon. I didn't know they were real. That's pretty cool._

_Dudley_

Harry briefly entertained the idea of sitting down with Dudley, trying to explain the basics of the wizarding world. It almost made him smile.

_October 7_

_Harry,_

_It's weird because I don't have a lot of friends these days. It doesn't really feel right to hang out with the guys I used to. Half of them pretend I don't exist or don't understand why I want to go back to school. The others just kiss my ass. It just feels weird now._

_I told Laura I love her. Mum told me that I shouldn't get too attached. First loves always fade, she says. But the other day I met her family and watched her play with her nephews. I couldn't help but think about what it would be like if we had kids. I see how close she and her brother are. It got me thinking about what it would have been like if we'd been friends. She asked if she'd ever get to meet you. I didn't know what to say. But I do think it'd be nice if one day I had kids and you got to meet them._

_So I told her a bit about last year. I think she knows I'm holding something back but she didn't push it. I told her a little bit about you. I told her I've been trying to contact you. I told her that we never really treated you right and that that's probably why you're not writing back. Bloody woman saw right through me and asked if I'd apologized. I realized I hadn't._

_So – I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was mean to you all those years. I never thought not to and I regret that. Maybe one day you'll let me say so in person._

_Dudley_

Before he could really stop and unpack all of that, he picked up the last letter. The one that had come today.

_October 31_

_Harry,_

_I don't know how much more I'll write. I think maybe you need some space. I've still been reading your news. I know you've gone through a lot and you're probably just trying to enjoy your last year of school. I guess you don't need me bugging you._

_But I found one of Mum's old photo albums. Laura asked to see photos of me as a baby. I know you're still mad at me, so I'll just let you imagine how embarrassing that was. After all, you know what I looked like…_

_Anyway, tucked into one of the envelopes there were some from when she was little. I think they must be of your Mum. I put them with your other things. But Hestia came to see me yesterday and she said something about today being the day your parents died. I thought maybe you'd like to have them._

_Hope you're doing aright._

_Dudley_

Harry held his breath as he recognized the weight of the smaller envelope included in the letter. He opened it. There were three photos. The first one was a photo of a sleeping baby wrapped tightly in a blanket. The back said "Lily Evans - 30 January, 1960." The second was of two girls at a campsite. The first was a blonde and the second was a redhead. This one had a caption on the back as well: "Lily and Petunia, Chester Lake, '67." The third was of a redhead on a horse. The back had no caption, but Harry suspected she was about 9 or 10.

He spread the photos on his bed and gazed at them. Hagrid had given him a whole album of pictures from his parents' friends, but none of either of them as children. He pulled out a piece of parchment and used a sticking charm to affix them to the page and tucked it into the back of the album.

He stared off into space for a while thinking of the images from Snape's memories. He rarely considered what it would have been like to grow up with parents – or even to grow up knowing about his parents. Certainly, Aunt Petunia had plenty of stories. Surely, she had some good memories… He wondered if she'd ever regretted severing ties with her sister. Didn't she ever miss her? He remembered how the Weasleys had acted after Percey's betrayal. Percy had always been a bit of an odd one out and he knew that Ron, Fred, and George especially had constantly poked fun at him. But he had always suspected that they missed him. Now that he had some space away from that year where everyone thought he was crazy, he thought maybe they were a little too harsh on him. After all, how could you grow up with someone and just hate them all of a sudden? What if they'd never made up? Now that Fred was gone, certainly they all benefitted from being together again.

He closed his eyes and sighed, putting the letters back into the drawer. He remembered Dumbledore telling him "there's no weakness in forgiveness."* He'd heard it on a muggle television show, apparently. Guilted by the memory of Dumbledore, he pulled out another piece of parchment.

_Dudley,_

_Thanks for the photos._

_I don't really know what to say. But you can keep writing. I'll try to write back more often._

_Glad you're doing alright._

_Harry_

And before he could change his mind, he bolted off to the owlry.

* * *

**Author's Note**

*I asked my husband about the reputations of various soccer clubs and based on his (and Google's) summaries I thought Ginny would fit in with these fan bases. If you know more than I do, let me know which fan base you think Ginny would support!

*"There's no weakness in forgiveness" is a quote from Tami Taylor on Friday Night Lights. Obviously this chapter far predates the show which premiered in 2006, but I've always loved this quote and it seems to me like something Dumbledore would have believed.


	12. Draco Malfoy, Tour Guide Extraordinaire

**Author's Note -** Thank you so much for reading! And thank you to those who have taken the time to leave a review. I have found writing various things very therapeutic lately and I'm just tickled that someone else might appreciate it as much as me. Also, I do really plan on updating every Monday. I have much of the rest of November already written so it should be more smooth sailing/regular posting from here on out.

* * *

**Chapter 12 – Draco Malfoy, Tour Guide Extraordinaire**

* * *

**Wednesday, November 3**

**Harry**

Harry and Ginny sat in the kitchens as the House Elves flitted around them, bringing them all the snacks they could want. One of them brought Ginny a strawberry milkshake and she playfully slapped his hand away as he tried to steal a sip.

"Hey! Get your own!" she laughed.

"Does Master want a milkshake too?" the house elf, Kipper, asked Harry.

"Oh, no thank you, Kipper. You've outdone yourself with this spread already."

They had been stuffing themselves with pastries and sweets for about an hour. The Hogwarts house elves had become quite accustomed to their presence. Harry had started coming here to talk to Winky and Kreacher since the beginning of the year. At the beginning, it had been hard to sleep, so he'd taken to wandering the castle at night. Several times he ended up here. One night, Ginny joined him unannounced. Apparently, she'd stolen the Marauder's Map and watched him venture here night after night. He hadn't used the Map very much this year. The first night he went out, it made him sad to think of the time that Fred and George had given it to him. He'd left it behind each time since. Plus, he wasn't particularly worried about getting in trouble. If it really came down to it, he'd just leave voluntarily rather than make McGonagall expel him. Also, it was much nicer to walk through the halls freehanded and without his nose buried in the map. He found that after his eyes adjusted, he didn't even need Lumos.

He'd started going to the kitchens because of his memories of Dobby. But he'd also decided to repair his relationship with Kreacher. The house elf had been very hurt and miffed that they had never returned to Grimmauld Place after the Ministry fiasco. Apparently, Kreacher had returned to Hogwarts after several weeks of waiting on them and he'd been one of the few elves to see Voldemort carry his seemingly-dead body out of the forest. He had immediately returned to Grimmauld Place to mourn the death of his master and had not witnessed Harry's remarkable resurrection or heard the news that Voldemort had been defeated.

Regrettably, it had been several days before Harry even thought about returning to the house or even to reach out to Kreacher, whose depression had kept him in the dark about his master's surprising survival. Though ultimately overjoyed that Harry hadn't died, Kreacher had still been very upset that, not only had Harry not returned that one evening, but that he hadn't thought to alert him of his survival after the battle. Additionally, he'd been even more incensed when Hermione had eventually told him that they had felt terribly but decided not to call him to them in the forest as they were afraid he could have been intercepted by the Ministry/Death Eaters. Kreacher, apparently, had felt this indicated he'd been an unworthy servant, if Harry would so readily believe he would betray them. No amount of logic could convince Kreacher that he might have had to betray them without his consent. Finally, Harry had ordered him to return to Hogwarts and hoped that he'd cool down eventually.

Once Harry had returned, he thought it might be prudent to make up with the stupid elf. He was glad he had. Now that Kreacher understood the true loyalties of Regulus, he felt more sympathetic to Sirius. Kreacher was still very angry at Sirius for leaving his family and for breaking his mother's heart, but he had warmed up to him significantly. He'd shared many childhood stories of Sirius with Harry and even gave him some tips on where to look for some old photographs Walburga might not have destroyed.

Now, he and Ginny came here about once a week. They didn't usually eat, but tonight they were celebrating. Ginny had received a letter from the Wasps, inviting her to a trial over Christmas break. He was very proud and he knew that Winky and Kreacher would be as well. Indeed, they were. They had whipped up an excellent spread.

"Ugh I'm stuffed," Ginny groaned after finishing her shake.

"Me to. They've really outdone themselves this time. Ron would die if he knew what he was missing."

Ginny nodded in mischievous agreement.

He and Hermione had politely declined Harry's invitation to join the tonight, saying that they were going for another walk.

"How do you think that's going?" Ginny asked, looking at Harry with a piercing stare.

"What?" Harry asked, feigning innocence. He knew very well what Ginny was asking about, but he didn't really want to get into it.

She sighed. "Ron and Hermione, obviously."

"I dunno. Good I guess."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Has he said anything to you?"*

"No, not really."

She sighed in annoyance. "Well, have you bothered to ask?"

"No." At her raised eyebrow he raised his hands up in defense. "Look, it's weird for me. They're my two best friends and I've tried my hardest not to get in the middle of it since we were 11. And she's like a sister to me. I don't want to hear anything I won't be able to forget." He shuddered internally, thinking of some of the things he and Ginny did that he'd very much rather never consider his two friends doing.

"Well, I just want to know what's going on with them. I'm concerned!" she said. He could feel her eyes on her so he made a lot of business of picking dirt out from under his fingernails. "He's my brother. And she's my best friend! I want to know if they're happy!"

"Gin, I think they are happy. I mean, they're together, aren't they?" _Finally_ , he added, internally.

She sighed scathingly. "You are so oblivious, you're worse than Ron." He gave her a truly offended glance. "Okay, that was cruel. No one is worse than Ron. But you are oblivious."

"Okay, fine. You win. What am I oblivious to?"

"Well… it's hard to explain. They're _too_ happy."

Now it was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "Oh, I see. So you're concerned because two people that have been in love with each other for ages are finally together and they're happy?"

"It's… It seems so… They're the same but they hold hands sometimes and go off by themselves."

"Isn't that how we are?"

She grinned. "Well, yes. I guess so. But… it seems different. We're perfect. We were made for each other."

He smirked at her. "You know, your mother once said that about she and your father."

"Ugh, that's low." She grimaced. "I don't even really know how to describe it. There's just… Something off. I guess I just want to know if we're going to have to suffer through their tortuously awkward breakup."

"Gin, that's how they've always been. They go from bickering to yelling to formality. It's been that way for seven years and I don't think they know any better."

He jerked his head towards the door and they said goodbye to the kitchen staff and headed back up to Gryffindor. After a few minutes she sighed heavily.

"Look, I know you think that they're stiff because they're nervous and awkward and that that's normal. But I guess my concern is that that _is_ their normal. Their friend normal. Shouldn't their normal have changed?"

Harry looked at her. "I don't know. The only other quasi-relationship I've had other than you was excruciatingly awkward. I don't know how things are supposed to work. But, Ron and Hermione? That's just how they are."

"Well we were both impossibly awkward as friends and that disappeared fairly quickly I'd say."

"Ginny, leave them be. I think they just need time. Plus, like you said, we're perfect. A model, even, I'd say."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay, fine. I'll lay off." But he noticed that she continued to brood the whole way back to Gryffindor tower. Right before the turnoff into the right corridor he grabbed her hand and jerked her into a secluded corner.

"Harry! What are you doing?" she shrieked.

"I'm distracting you," he smirked as he buried his face in her hair, attacking her neck with his lips.

She giggled sinfully.

* * *

**Friday, November 5**

**Draco**

"Good afternoon, Draco. How are you today?" Mandy asked.

"Fine, thank you," Draco said as he assumed his normal leaning stance against the window.

She raised an eyebrow and he immediately realized his mistake. He'd never said one word in Mandy's office. Not one word, until today. He steadied his breath and pretended everything was normal.

"Professor McGonagall told me that your plan for the great common room is going well."

He huffed.

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about today?"

He was silent and so was she. They continued their silent spar.

So, McGonagall had talked to her? That didn't surprise him, truthfully, as she'd stopped by their meeting last night.

" _Great, thanks everyone!" Neville said, "Finalize the details and have it ready to present to the Headmistress next week."_

_They made small talk – well, Neville, Susan, and Padma had made small talk. Draco had loitered in the background like a gargoyle, waiting for Neville. He had an important question to ask him. Finally the two girls headed off, gossiping about the results of the theme for the spring dance._

" _Uh, Neville?"_

" _Oh, yeah Malfoy?"_

" _Good afternoon gentlemen," a stiff and proper voice had cut in, interrupting them._

" _Professor McGonagall!" Neville exclaimed._

" _Mr. Longbottom. Mr. Malfoy," she said, eyeing them sternly._

_Draco nodded at her silently. Neville began babbling to her about their progress. After a few moments she cleared her throat._

" _Mr. Malfoy, may I speak with you briefly?"_

" _Yes, Professor," he said, his voice coming out sticky as though he hadn't used it in a while. If he was being honest, he'd been expecting something like this for two months now. He knew the vast majority of the magical community didn't trust him or his family. He knew it was only a matter of time before some snide remark or wayward hostile glance caught the attention of an overly meddlesome prefect or watchful professor. Now he surely was in for a warning along the lines of "if you put one more toe out of line, you're fucked." He grimaced inwardly. Well, if that was the case, he'd just write off to Durmstrang and transfer after Christmas beak. His mother wouldn't like it but he thought she'd probably like it more than visiting him in Azkaban for the rest of his natural life. After all, just visiting Azkaban aged her prematurely, she'd told him._

_McGonagall motioned back into the classroom. Neville shot him an anxious glance and walked away. Draco sighed and headed back in to face his fate. He leaned against the wall._

" _How has your semester been, Draco?"_

" _Fine, thank you, ma'am."_

" _Your professors report that you've been earning excellent mark, as always."_

_Draco nodded in thanks, waiting for whatever shoe was to drop._

" _I have spoken to Ms. Dearborne," she eyed him thoughtfully. "She said that, while very polite, you have not chosen to engage during your individual sessions."_

_Draco studied a small piece of trash nearby his shoe._

" _I was hoping you'd share with my why you are reluctant to participate."_

_He could feel her staring at him. He didn't even consider occluding. While it was easy to do so during Mandy's sessions, he somehow felt that wouldn't fly with the headmistress. He looked up, expecting her to be staring at him sternly. Instead, he found that she'd sat in one of the chairs and was looking at him curiously and, unless his eyes were mistaken, kindly. He studied his nails._

" _Draco?"_

_Yes, he could tell that he wasn't going to get away with ignoring her._

" _I… don't have anything to say," he said softly._

_He looked up cautiously just to make eye contact with her. She tilted her head and frowned._

" _I understand that this is a difficult situation for you. I know you would have preferred never to return to Hogwarts. I will not pretend that I have ever tried to be close to you," she raised an eyebrow at his scoff. "Very well, I will not pretend that I have ever been particularly fond of you. However, I have been well briefed on the circumstances of your… actions. I did read Severus' journals and I know about his plans for you. I know how highly he thought of you. I know you never would have chosen your role had you not feared for your safety. I also understand that these circumstances are not widely known. Even if they were… Well people, especially children, are still scared. I am not surprised that people are having a difficult time accepting your… well, presence. That being said, I just wanted you to know that I am here if you ever would like to talk. Or if you'd ever like to report any harassment that is particularly unsavory."_

_Draco nodded. "Thank you, Professor."_

_They stared in opposite directions for several minutes. Or, at least, Draco stared off into the distance, aware that she was staring at an object somewhere near his general vicinity._

" _Very well, Mr. Malfoy. And please encourage your classmates to reach out. Neither have been willing to meet with me."_

_By "classmates," he knew she meant Theo and Pansy._

" _Yes, Professor."_

" _Well, have a pleasant evening. I look forward to hearing the presentation on the all-house commons."_

"Draco?"

How long had he been reminiscing? Unconsciously, he raised his head to meet her gaze. He thought, for a split second, he saw surprise flit across her face. He supposed it shouldn't surprise him. After two months it would be quite the event for him to break his silence. But even more quickly than it had appeared, it had gone.

" _Is_ there anything you'd like to discuss today?"

"No." His voice filled the room like an avalanche. He'd never before realized just how quiet the room was. He wondered what kind of charms she'd used to create the ambiance. Silencing charms, certainly. Not only could he not hear the bustle and creaking of the castle, but he was sure that the room was silenced so no one could eavesdrop. However, he could also hear very subtle nature sounds. A bit of wind even though the trees by the forest were completely still; chirping birds even though they were far too high up and the castle walls were too thick; the gentle rippling of the lake on the shore. It was all incredibly subtle. If he hadn't been occluding, he probably wouldn't have even been able to tell. It was a nice touch, he thought. It was all very relaxing.

"What are the plans for the great common room?" Mandy asked.

_Bloody persistent woman._

If anyone asked (which they wouldn't), he'd say it was because McGonagall had given him a veiled threat against his persistent non-participation (she hadn't). But, in that moment he realized how fucking boring it was to sit there silently. His life certainly wasn't interesting enough anymore to distract him.

"We're keeping the furniture neutral but each wall will feature something from each one of the houses," he said, picking up one of the marbles from the side table and toying with it absentmindedly.

"That sounds very nice! What are you doing for Slytherin?"

_Give an inch, they take a mile. You should've known better, stupid._

"There will be an aquarium. Like the windows into the lake."

"You have windows that let you see into the lake?"

"Uh, yes."

Her eyes sparked with curiosity. "Oh, how fascinating! I haven't actually been down to Slytherin yet."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Professor McGonagall offered me a tour of each house during orientation but I wanted to wait to be invited by one of the students I'm working with. I've visited each except for Slytherin." She sighed softly for effect.

_Oh fuck._ Draco glanced down onto the grounds from the window he always leaned against and briefly considered if he remembered the spells to slow and cushion falling. _Unfortunately, four stories' worth of internal damage is probably too great an ask for even Madam Pomfrey._

"Oh, I see," he said purposely not looking at her.

He could practically hear his mother's scolding voice even though she was far away. After a few minutes he gave up. He supposed suffering her through a tour would keep them away from heavier topics.

"It would be my pleasure to show you around," he gritted.

Mandy practically cooed with excitement. "Oh, thank you! Would you like to go now or schedule some time later?"

"Now!" he spat out too quickly. "I mean, yes, now is fine."

"Then, lead the way!" she sang, standing up and gesturing for him to go first.

\----------

"Well, this is it," Draco shrugged gesturing around what used to be his favorite place I the world.

He stood awkwardly in the corner with his hands in his pockets avoiding the gaze of the older students in the corner. Thankfully, most younger students were still in classes at this time. The only people who typically had free periods were Sixth Years and up. He was grateful that Theo and Pansy were elsewhere.

He felt a strange emotion awaken briefly as she examined the vast number of House Cups in a large trophy cabinet. The feeling was foreign and it took him a moment to realize that it was pride. He supposed it had been a long time since he'd had a reason to use that particular emotion…

"What are these?" Mandy asked, pointing to the ancient books and bundles of parchment on one wall.

"Those are The Histories," he said flatly.

"You have books in Slytherin?" she said, teasing him lightly.

"Ravenclaw doesn't have a monopoly on knowledge."

She laughed and opened one. _What are you doing? Joking with her? Just get on with it so she'll leave._

"They are history books about the House and witches and wizards who were Slytherins. Most of them were written by students. It's a tradition to pick someone and do all the research you can, and add anything you find. Or you an start a new one on someone of your preference. That's why there are different styles of handwriting. A lot of students write about their parents."

"What a great tradition! Are you going to make one?"

"No," he said with such finality and hate that it made her turn around.

The whole truth would have been "No, not anymore." Since his first night at Hogwarts when he'd learned about the tradition, he'd been working on a large history of his father. He hadn't told, him, of course. He'd wanted it to be a surprise. His mother had helped him find some family history and filled him in on some of the stories and activities that his father hadn't shared with Draco. However, the ashes of the pages he'd created now covered the bottom of the fireplace in their drawing room.

"They're arranged by birth year. Most students avoid everything after here these days," he said, pointing to one of the newer shelves.

Mandy pulled off a book at random. He recognized it as one of the Lestrange volumes. She peeked inside and sighed in recognition.

"I see. Well, it's important to remember the ugly parts of history just as much as the good parts. Maybe even more important, I think."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. At the beginning of the year, the house prefects had led a vote. Should The Histories be stripped of Death Eaters or should they stay? Keeping them won by a narrow margin. But now they just sat there. No one wants to read them and no one wants to throw them away.

After a few minutes of her looking through various Histories, Draco cleared his throat. He was anxious to get this finished before the last period of the day ended. He showed her the various sculptures and paintings.

"And, of course," these are the windows into the lake you mentioned," she said walking over to the large floor-to-ceiling windows that were casting a greenish glow all over the room. She traced the markings on the window frame.

"It's a mermish poem. The translation is in the Histories somewhere. It's a tragic love story told from three points of view."

"Merpeople?"

"Yes, they live in the lake. Sometimes we see them swim by."

Her head whipped around as though expecting to see a whole gaggle of them waving through the window.

"I imagine you've seen quite a number of interesting creatures over the years."

"Yes. The Giant Squid is always a hit. And when we were younger we liked taunting the Grindylows." What a long time ago it seemed that he, Greg, and Vince would lure them and joke around eating enough sweets to make themselves sick.

They both stared through the window watching the fish swim by. He looked over at Mandy whose wide brown eyes were gazing out into the lake with amazement. She'd had a similar look over by The Histories.

It was odd, he thought to be here with someone other than a Slytherin. One of the great Slytherin claims to fame was a bold-faced lie. The house routinely claimed to be the only house to not have had any visitors (other than professor) in more than 500 years. Well, if the number of times Draco alone had been kicked out of his dorm so one of his dorm mates could entertain a love interest (several of them from other houses) was any indication, there were plenty of visitors. In fact, he suspected that it was more likely that Gryffindor was more of a stickler for no visitors than any other house. None of the girls in Slytherin had ever been invited up to the Gryffindor tower but had been everywhere else. Draco had actually never been to any of the other houses. He'd always been entertained enough by Pansy and he'd always preferred the thrill of a slightly more public rendezvous. Having no frame of reference for the Gryffindor Common Room, he had to assume that it was just as outlandish and obnoxious as its inhabitants. He imagined a dumpy sort of room gilded with gaudy gold fixtures and ratty red furniture. He shook himself mentally, dismayed and somewhat confused that his mind had gone there.

"Well, Draco, thank you. I think I've trespassed upon your hospitality plenty for one day. Thank you for being so open today. I will see you next week."

He nodded and escorted her to the exit and slumped off to his bed to read.

That night he dreamed he was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to one of the windows picking out favorite fish and creatures and stuffing himself with candy, all while explaining Slytherin traditions to a brunette witch in a hand knitted sweater with a Christmas bow in her hair. Though he woke up content and hopeful, for the life of him, he couldn't remember the dream.

* * *

**Author's Note**

*I read a quote once that said, "The best part of being in a couple is gossiping about other couples." While I don't think that's the _best_ thing, I do think it is a fun part.

Thanks for reading :)


	13. I've Got News For You, Bucko

**I've Got News For You, Bucko**

* * *

**Wednesday, November 3**

**Tuesday, November 10**

**Draco**

Tuesdays were Draco's least favorite day of the week. Most people disliked Mondays because it meant the weekend was over. Draco had always felt slightly motivated on Mondays since he usually had restful and enjoyable weekends (Sixth year, not included). But by Tuesday, he was ready for another day off, staring into the long stretch of the week. Plus, Tuesday held the most boring of all of his classes.

He buttered some toast and reached for the jam when he realized that some snot nosed First Year had just finished off the last of the blackberry. _Great_.

He heard the commotion of the post owls. He didn't expect anything so he was surprised when his mother's owl landed in front of him holding two letters. She dropped one in front of him and nipped at him as he reached for the second. _Who else could she be writing to at Hogwarts?_ He gave her a treat and she flew down the table and deposited the second letter with Theo. _She's probably coordinating regarding Christmas. But why wouldn't she have done that through me?_ With a note of dread in his stomach, he set about to read his letter.

_My Draco,_

_I hope you enjoyed Halloween. I do still miss the Halloween Feast at Hogwarts. My favorite, of course, was the one Seventh Year after your father and I had begun courting. He was ever so handsome and such a gentleman. I remember that..._

Draco skimmed down the long paragraph, which was no doubt a nauseatingly nostalgic memory of his parents' romantic overtures at Hogwarts. Even under normal circumstances, he wouldn't be interested in thinking about his parents canoodling on the grounds. But, given his general dislike for his father now, he really couldn't bring himself to stomach that nonsense.

_I have been keeping quite busy. I wanted to let you know that Ms. Bones sent me the photos she found. I already sent her a thank you note, but please impress upon her just how much it means to me. I have been working with Mindy..._

He kept skimming, annoyed. She never wrote letters like this. They were always straight and to the point, knowing that he didn't care for small talk or her social activities. The only time she started a conversation like this was when she wanted to lull him into boredom, knowing that he would begin to tune her out before springing some horrid responsibility on him. Oh... fuck.

_Finally, I wanted you to know how proud I am of you for your recent charitable activities. I think the cause you've chosen is very noble. Not many young wizards would be so generous with their trust and donate more than the amount required. You make me proud every day and I am so thankful to call you my son._

Draco frowned. He couldn't remember mentioning that... Perhaps he had in his last letter? It wasn't the type of thing he was planning to brag about, but then again he had been fairly inebriated when he wrote the letter. Maybe he got carried away...

_I was ever so pleased to receive the Christmas Gala invitation from Monsieur Dubois. They were, of course, almost as surprised by the donation as I was. They have decided to name the wing after you as a thank you._

Oh no no no no no. This was not good. What happened to anonymous?

_It was supposed to be a surprise, but I know how you feel about being in the spotlight these days. I wanted you to have time to mentally prepare yourself. I have already made arrangements with Sofia for us to stay with her. I thought we could spend a few days in country and enjoy the weather before returning home for Christmas._

Fuck.

_I have also owled Theodore and informed him that he is to travel with us and attend the Gala._

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckety. Fuck.

_I would have asked you to invite him but, knowing you as I do, I did not think the message would ever have reached him._

Well, she got points for accuracy.

_He is your friend and I am sure he will be just as proud of you as I am. He will be thrilled at the opportunity to celebrate your generosity. I have also asked him to encourage you bring a date. This is exactly the kind of thing that is likely to impress any witch worthy of your affections. Monsieur Dubois has made it clear that you may add as many individuals to the guest list as you would like. If you would like to invite Pansy or any of your other friends (or a special lady perhaps), simply write to Monsieur Dubois with their names and he will arrange the portkeys._

He snuck a glance at Theo who was smirking at him evilly. Fucking lovely.

_Madam Tolouse awaits your most recent measurements and style/color preferences. You've grown so much since the last time she made robes for you. It has been so long since we've had an occasion to go out in society. I know that these events are not your favorite way to spend time but it would be terribly rude to decline the invitation now that I have accepted it. Additionally, I can't imagine you would deny me the opportunity to celebrate you in such a meaningful way. After all, we have had precious few things to celebrate these past few years._

Subtle, Mother.

_I love you._

_Mum_

Draco crumpled the letter up and resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. He saw Theo saunter over to him. How thick were the windows in the Great Hall? Could he dive out?

"So, should we create a bracket system for my matchmaking duties or would you like me to just pick someone for you?"

"Oh, fuck off Theo."

* * *

**Friday, November 13**

**Ginny**

"Ron, enough. What is going on?" Hermione hissed as they left dinner. Ron had been sullen and isolated all week. Harry had chosen to ignore it after the first 10 times of asking if everything was okay. Hermione, bless her, could not let it go.

He grumbled under his breath and sped up.

She followed quickly and tugged on his bag, pulling him back so he wheeled around to face her. "Tell. Us. Now."

"Oh like you both don't know," he had seethed.

Hermione and Harry had looked at each other blankly. Hermione had confided in her earlier that she thought she'd done something to slight him on the girlfriend front. Ginny had doubted this. Ron was certainly the moodiest of the Weasley bunch. Harry had thought he was just upset about Fred and it was coming out as anger. Ginny suspected it might be something deeper.

Unfortunately, the three of them all thought the other two were the most stubborn people they ever met. Harry was too stubborn to get in the middle. Hermione was too stubborn to let it go. Ron was too stubborn to give in. It was a train wreck waiting to happen.

"Uh, what's that, mate?" Harry had piped in.

"Come on, I know you've been acting all noble all week. You don't have to keep it up. I deserve it."

_Uh o h. Anytime Ron starts acting like Harry's the savior of the universe, it's a bad sign._

"Ron, we don't know what you're talking about. Neither of us are mad at you!" Ginny stifled a giggle at Hermione actually stamping her foot.

"WELL YOU SHOULD BE!" He yelled, startling a First Year and storming off in another direction.

The three of them followed him into an empty classroom. He was acting very unhinged indeed. From isolating himself in his bed two ditching practice to blatantly sassing Professor McGonagall, he was definitely on a path of destruction. Now it appeared he was on some kick of self-flagellation.

"Ron…" Hermione approached him cautiously, touching his shoulder. "Would you please tell us what's wrong?"

"Yeah, if you have done something we should be angry about, at least tell us so that we can properly punish you," Harry said, annoyed and sarcastically.

Both Ginny and Hermione shot him scathing glances.

"You… You really don't remember?"

"No!" Harry practically shouted.

Ron stared out the window silently. It made Ginny very sad to see him this way. He'd worked very hard all summer to help protect everyone else. He'd filled in for the twins in the joke and prank department. The first night they'd had family dinner and no one had sprouted an extra hand out of their head or had mashed potatoes explode on them or something, it had become even more blatantly obvious that there was a gaping hole. Fred wasn't there and George didn't have it in him to even remember to irritate Mum with a prank. Ron, in a stroke of thoughtfulness Ginny had never thought he had, had braved the joke shop no one else had been willing to enter to get a number of joke products and used them to try to cheer every one up. He'd tried his best to include Percy in conversations. Though they were all very happy to have him back, it was awkward, especially with Dad. He'd joined them both at the Ministry for lunch multiple times a week. He had spent far more time than necessary at the Burrow, just waiting for Mum to need something. Everyone was miserable spending time at the Burrow, but he never complained. He just tuned into old Cannons broadcasts and graciously ate the uncharacteristically bland food. He'd helped Charlie with some magical creature work. He'd tried to help at Shell Cottage where a number of Order members were staying. He and Fleur didn't really ever get used to each other, so it was short lived.

And through all of it he was silently keeping vigil for Hermione. After the first time she'd had nightmares, he'd spent almost every night outside of her room or in her bed, just in case she woke up screaming. They'd all noticed she didn't have them when they slept in the same room, but, in another bought of astuteness Ginny had been surprised by, Ron had realized it made Hermione uncomfortable and settled for sleeping outside her room.

_He really doesn't get enough credit. I should be nicer to him. He's really held us all together. What could he possible have to feel so guilty for?_

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Ron broke the silence, speaking so quietly they almost couldn't hear.

"It's been a year. Since I left."

Ginny had no idea what that meant. But Hermione apparently did because she gasped and rushed forward to grab his hand. Harry narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, frowning. She recognized the look. He knew what was going on and didn't agree with Ron's assessment. But he was tempering his reaction.

"Oh, Ron, is this what you've been stewing over? You _have_ to know that we don't care any more. We both forgave you after you came back! We know it was just the locket."

Finally it clunked into place for Ginny.

_Ohhhhhhh. When he left them hunting Horcruxes._

She immediately understood. Loyalty was the most important thing to Ron. He'd similarly beat himself up after his tiff with Harry their Fourth Year, but it hadn't been nearly this bad. Ron was usually the first to throw stones. But he was either the first to forgive or the grudge would keep him alive long past his natural years. There was no in between. It just depended what would help the people close to him. She realized she shouldn't have been so shocked that he'd been Percy's biggest champion, welcoming him back like nothing had happened at all. She'd expected that he would be the hardest to win over. But, it turned out that having Percy around was about the only thing that helped Mum.

Of course, he would be devastated by the anniversary of what he considered to be his greatest failure. She wondered, briefly, how Harry and Hermione couldn't have seen it coming.

"Yeah, mate, it's water under the bridge. Like we would have cared after you saved me from drowning."

"So, I saved you're life and that's why you forgave me?"

"Well, yes. I mean, no. I would have forgiven you anyway. We've never been able to stay mad at each other for long," Harry said shrugging.

"So that just makes it all better?" Ron spat.

Ginny wasn't exactly sure where this was going in Ron's mind but she had a very bad feeling about it. Usually when Ron got mad his ears turned red, then his face. He was a very volatile volcano. Ever since they were little he'd been the one whose temper was the easiest to predict (well, other than Mum's). But he didn't have that volatile volcano look he usually did before he exploded. He looked deflated and more than that.. Ginny couldn't place it. She knew she'd seen it before.

Harry tilted his head, confused. "Well, yeah. I mean you apologized and we said it was forgotten. And everything worked… well it turned out."

Ginny watched Hermione's eyes flit between the two of them.

"Ron," Hermione said tentatively, "I wish you'd told us you were upset about this. We could have assured you that we're not mad at you."

Ron threw his hands in the air and started pacing. "Oh, that's it then? You two are the king and queen of forgiveness? Once you decide someone is good or bad, everyone else just has to fall into line? Maybe I want you to be mad."

"So, you're mad that we're not mad? About something that happened a year ago that, while unfortunate, didn't result in any catastrophic damage?" Hermione asked.

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!" Ron yelled. The other two took a step back. "You can't know that. Maybe things would have been different… if I'd stayed."

"Yeah, maybe all three of us would've been killed in Godric's Hollow," Harry said sarcastically.

"Harry…" Ginny said warningly.

Hermione stepped forward. "Look, I understand you regret leaving and you've obviously been more upset about it than either of us realized. I'm sorry we didn't think that this was something you'd have trouble with." Ron grumbled something intelligible. "But I think you have to give yourself a break. Everyone else has and-"

"Well that's easy for you to say, seeing as you've never done anything you regret. You're perfect."

"WHAT? I am far from perfect."

"Well then what do you regret?"

Hermione scrunched up her face. "I mean, obviously I wish I could have helped more during the battle. So many people were hurt and I did my best. We all did. But… And I wonder if I'd been quicker on my feet maybe I could have found a way apparate us away from the snatchers or fight them off or something. Then Dobby… And obviously I wish that it had been different with my parents-"

Ron barked a mirthless laugh. "Don't you see? You can't even think of anything good. You're so perfect you're grasping at straws to make the most noble things seem bad. You saved mine and Harry's asses and who knows how many others during the battle, all while keeping a cool head and staying on track. There's no way you would have been able to get us away from the snatchers. And don't act like you have anything to be sorry for. You were _tortured_ and you _still_ kept quiet. I couldn't have done it. You knew she was going to kill you or worse and you still didn't say anything. It's not fair. And it's not a good look on you. You're perfect and you're an impossible standard for the rest of us to live up to and it's just that much more annoying when you pretend you're one of us mere mortals. Just admit you know how much better you are than the rest of us. I don't want your pity."

Ginny groaned, sensing extreme danger now. Harry was quietly fuming. He'd been very quiet which was a sure sign of danger. He was leaning against a wall, his eyes darkened. Hermione looked like she'd been slapped. Something Ginny couldn't recognize was burning behind her eyes. Ron looked like a wounded animal that had decided it's only defense was to throw as many punches, scratches, and bites as it could and just hope that something would stick before he eventually went down. Ginny stepped forward to try to diffuse the situation. Before she could open her mouth all hell broke loose.

"HOW DARE YOU RON!" Hermione screamed, "You would throw that in my face when I know for certain the only nightmare you have is the same as me. Do you know how guilty that makes me feel? That I'm the reason you feel pain?"

"IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S THAT BITCH BELLATRIX!"

"Well, if I'd been smarter and came up with better wards the snatchers wouldn't have been able to break through."

"OHHH HERE SHE GOES AGAIN."

"RON!" Harry finally came forward. "You're out of line."

"And who died and made you the boss?"

"Oh I don't know. How about Dumbledore?"

"Well if you're so high and mighty then what are you doing here with me then? You and Hermione can just ride off and bask in the glory off being the wizarding world's saviors. Everyone knows I wasn't even needed. I'm just the comedic relief. And I'm not even funny this year."

Hermione sighed in exasperation and desolation.

_Well, shit. This escalated very quickly._

Ginny was standing in the background as her best friend, her boyfriend, and her brother screamed at each other in an empty classroom. To her knowledge, this was the biggest fight the three of them had ever had. In fact, she suspected it was the first real knock-down, drag-out fight that all three of them had actually been involved in. Typically, it was just two of them, the other desperately trying to keep the peace. Ginny looked between the three of them, feeling helpless and unsure. She'd never been the type to keep quiet but, as the youngest of a very large family, she did have an instinct for knowing when to keep her trap shut. This seemed like one of those times.

Harry stepped forward. "You need to cut this out now. You don't get to torture us because you haven't forgiven yourself."

Ron stepped even closer to him. "Just because you're the 'Boy Who Will Forgive Anything' doesn't mean that I have to pretend I did everything I could."

"Do you honestly think that I don't lie awake most nights going over every action over the past five years, trying to figure out what I could have done to change everything?" Harry said quietly, anger still tracing every word.

"Yes! We'd all be dead if it wasn't for you."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE! If not for me Cedric would still be alive. If I'd never been friends with you then maybe Ginny wouldn't have been such a target for Tom Riddle. Maybe if I'd followed everyone's advice I would have shot to kill during the flight from the Dursleys. Maybe Dolohov would've been there and I could have knocked him off his broom. Maybe then Lupin would still be alive. And Dumbledore-"

"If I'd come back sooner. Or if I'd never left, maybe we would have found all the Horcruxes sooner. Maybe the battle could have happened over Easter break. Then there wouldn't have been students there. Maybe we wouldn't have lost… so many."

"And maybe if I'd tried harder at Occlumency I would never have seen that vision and Sirius would still be alive-"

"Harry, you know that's not true," Hermione cut in.

"Of course it is," Harry waved her off.

"NO. IT ISN'T. I know you refuse to believe this but Snape did not give you a fair shot. He didn't even try to really teach you. He set you up to fail."

Harry started stammering. And Hermione stepped forward knocking Ron forcefully out of the way.

"Now, you listen here because I don't think I can listen to you idolize him anymore. We. Were. Children. He was an adult. It was his job to _teach_ you Occlumency. And he didn't. end of story. I'll show you the books. You could have taught yourself better than he taught you. And even worse than that, he gave up when you embarrassed him. Even though he knew how important it was. Think about all the times he tormented you. For god's sake think about all the humiliating things he did to _me_. And I held my head high. But, no, you found out that he got bullied when he was our age and it almost ruined _everything._ What if we had all died at the Ministry? Would Voldemort still be here? Maybe. Then it would be _his fault_. It is not your fault Sirius died. Sirius and Dumbledore treated you like you were twenty years older than you were. AND IT ALMOST DESTROYED YOU." She poked him forcefully in the chest, tears sparkling in her eyes.

"Don't talk about Dumbledore."

"Why the hell not, Harry? He left you in the dark. He used you. Yes, good intentions, but you know what they say about that. I know he trusted you. And, you know I love you and Ron more than anything, and we did everything we could. And I'm proud of us. But a fully-fledged Order member should have been helping us. He could have gone about it differently."

Ginny stared at Hermione open-mouthed. She knew that Hermione had been stewing about Snape since his role was revealed. But she'd never given any indication that she harbored any resentment towards Dumbledore. Before she could assess her own feelings on the subject Harry opened his mouth, his eyes filled with rage. Hermione interrupted him.

"NOW LOOK. Dumbledore was a great wizard and you'll never hear me say otherwise. But he made mistakes. Everyone does. I'm not asking you to hate him or Snape. I'm asking you to look at it objectively and stop idolizing them so much that you vilify yourself."

"THEY WERE THE BRAVEST WIZARDS I'VE EVER KNOWN."

Hermione scoffed. "Yes, they were brave. No one can dispute them. But there are plenty of other wizards AND WITCHES that did equally brave things. How many times did the three of us risk our lives without being asked to? STARTING AT THE AGE OF 11. You stood up to Voldemort countless times. YOU VOLUNTEERED TO DIE FOR THE GREATER GOOD."

"That doesn't mean what they did-"

"Of course it doesn't. Accepting someone's flaws doesn't mean you have to forget all about their incredible deeds. It's not either/or. It's all of it. You're not perfect and neither am I." She shot a scathing look at Ron. "And, Ron? If you want to torture yourself, that's fine. But don't drag us down with you. You made a choice to leave and you chose to come back. You chose to stand by us 99% of the time and that's more than anyone can ask for in a friend. I'm sorry you feel like there's more you could have done. But you don't own the rights to that. We all feel that way. But it won't change anything. All we can do is make the best out of the time and opportunities given to us. And I think we've all done that so far. I know that I have. But I won't listen to the two of you act like you are responsible for the deaths of the people we loved. Death Eaters murdered them. Not you. I have survivor's guilt too, but I talk about it when I feel it. Maybe you should both consider doing the same. Because I won't stand by while you disparage yourselves. Ginny, please make sure they don't kill each other."

Before Ron, Harry, or Ginny could respond, Hermione had marched out of the room muttering furiously, slamming the door so hard a photo fell off the wall.

"Well," Ginny said, breaking the silence, "That certainly was entertaining."

Ron sent her a hostile look. "You're not really needed here, Ginny."

"Oh I'd argue I am. It is my job as your sister and your girlfriend to set you both fucking straight. Ron. I don't know your little trio love dynamic. But I know that since the day you've met Harry you have had his back. No one can dispute that, not even you. You know very well that Fred's death had nothing to do with you so don't pretend you're beating yourself up over that. You're embarrassed you had a moment of weakness a year ago that was almost completely due to the fact that you were being influenced by an evil object. And now you're feeling inferior because you don't know what you're doing with your future. Which, by the way, is fucking fine seeing as you're 17 years old. You should be buying things you can't afford, making out with your girlfriend in public with embarrassing vigor, rebelling, and generally having fun. And if you need time to process what's happened and where you go from here that's fine. You fucking should have questions. But talk to Mindy or whatever her name is. Or me. Or Harry. Or Hermione. Or fucking anyone. But you can't just bottle it up and then expect an award for being tormented. News flash – we're all going through the same thing. If you pulled your head out of your ass you'd see that the rest of us are just as lost and confused as you. Do yourself a favor and talk to someone about your feelings before you explode. And whatever you do, don't talk to Hermione like that again. She has jumped through fire for you and it kills her to see you suffering. She'd erase all your pain if she could. And you have the gall to tell her that she is perfect and that her feelings aren't valid? Well, fuck you. Have you ever stopped to consider that she's not the brightest witch of our age in her book? She knows she's bright and talented. But since starting here, everyone has been telling her she'll be the next minister for magic or invent self-spelling wands or just transcend magically into perfection. Have you ever considered what it might be like to compete with that version of yourself? Maybe she just wants to open a bookstore or work for a charity or teach or be ordinary. But she feels like she'll be letting down the entire wizarding world if she doesn't do something impossibly extraordinary. And don't even get me started on how absolutely disgusting it is for you to invalidate her feelings. Just because you feel inadequate does not mean you get to police what is okay and not okay for her to feel. You don't get to control her perception. Only your actions. So get it on fucking lock."

Ginny took a breath before rounding on Harry.

"And, you." He avoided her eyes. "I get that you have a lot of guilt. I understand that. But I also will not stand for you pretending those deaths are on you. They are on one person or one group. Voldemort and the Death Eaters. You are not omniscient. I don't know how fate works. Sure, maybe if you'd opened that mirror and called Sirius he wouldn't have died at the ministry. Maybe you could have protected Lupin and Tonks. Maybe if you had acted faster at the cave Dumbledore would have been better able to protect himself. Maybe if you'd never been so rash to say Voldemort's name, then Dobby would still be alive. Maybe if you hadn't been so hard-headed, you would have seen the signs and found Snape sooner. I don't know. But I'm pretty sure Sirius would have charged into any number of battles. He was brave and fearless and it's just as likely he would have died during the battle. Dumbledore would have died anyway. And I don't need to tell you, of all people, the importance of the passing of the Elder Wand. If you'd never gone to Malfoy Manor, you wouldn't have had Griphook and Bellatrix's hair - both of which you needed to get into Gringotts. You certainly wouldn't have gotten the clarity of the horcrux location. I just don't fucking know, Harry. I don't. But I do know that cannot blame yourselves for other people's actions or their deaths. Accepting the terrible things that have happened doesn't mean you're okay with them. It means you accept that they happened and that you can't change them. The hard part is learning to move on and live life in spite of all that shit. So I play Quidditch and talk about stupid Witch Weekly articles and try to convince Hermione to do something different with her wardrobe. I ignore Mum when she says we should get married and that I should pop out eight babies in the next two years. I do what makes me happy because I can. And I feel sad about Fred and Lupin and Tonks and everyone else. But I live my life because they can't. And when I feel sad about them I try to remember the happy times because if I died I would be devastated to see the people who love me rot away in sadness. But what you can't do is hold a monopoly on grief because, I've got news for you, bucko. Your grief isn't any worse than anyone else's and to pretend it so, is selfish and egotistical. And if you need more time to grieve and be sad, that's fine. You can be happy one second and sad the next and mad the next. You just can't pretend you're the only one who has a right to."

_Well fuck. Tell them how you really feel, why don't you?_

Ginny took a deep breath. She hadn't really meant to go in on them so much. But they needed to hear it. And it's not like she'd ever been known as a beacon of the middle ground. Had she gone too far? She'd been biting back those words since May. She thought it would have gotten better now that they were all talking to counselors. She and Harry were pretty good at talking. Well, they were good at talking to each other. Neither of them were very good at following their own advice. But they got by. She knew that Harry had made strides just be telling her some of the things he did. It's a good thing so many of their talks happened at night on the dark grounds. There had been several instances where her face would have horrified him into silence.

And, Ron? Well they'd always shared a special bond as the two youngest siblings. And by bond, she meant that they sort of hated each other but would also swim through undiluted bubotubor puss for each other. If Harry was a 4 out of 10 on recognizing his emotions, then Ron was a -10. It wasn't that he didn't try. He just… wasn't particularly in tune with himself. He'd jump in front of the Hogwarts Express for someone but it would take him a month to realize why he was upset about something. He was just so good. She sighed internally. Why were boys so difficult? She didn't know how girls got the reputation of being complicated. Boys were way worse. Their egos just complicated everything.

"Ron?" Harry said tentatively, "I'm sorry I didn't realize why you were upset this week. I didn't forget because I was pitying you. You're my brother and you've done so much for me. You never asked for any of this. I'm honestly still shocked you didn't run for the hills after First Year. Or at least after the spiders Second Year…" Ron chuckled awkwardly. "I forgot because having your support and friendship far outweighs any rash decision you could make. I forgot because I truly forgave you."

Ron shifted awkwardly. "I'm sorry too. I just feel so… lame sometimes. It's the same shit. I was mad that you forgot because I felt like I should be punished. And it was so much worse than Fourth Year. I've hated myself for that ever since. And this… It's just been festering. It made me sick that you two didn't even remember because I was really mortified that I'd forgotten. It's… just…"

"Hard."

"Bullshit."

They spoke at the same time and then were very quiet. They were now standing side by side staring out the window.

"Oh would you two grow up and just hug already? I'd like to get some fucking dinner."

Ron gave her an appraising look. Harry chuckled and said, "As the lady wishes."

They embraced in a millisecond of side hug and then started debating what kind of pie would be served that evening.

_Boys._

* * *

**Author's Note**

In defense of snating… Look, both Dumbledore and Snape are complex characters. That's what makes HP so great. No one is perfect and that's fine. I personally don't really buy into the whole "Dumbledore is a terrible person" thing, but I do think there were things that he should have done differently. As for Snape… When I was a teenager and I first read Deathly Hallows I idolized Snape. I did until very recently. I thought it was all very romantic and heroic. But the older I get, the more fault I see in his general behavior to CHILDREN. What really changed my mind was listening to the podcast Potterless. Mike and the guests he had on really shed some light on some of Snape's actions that I just can't forgive, now that I've thought about them differently. Do I still it was a cool twist? Yes. Is his memory chapter still one of my favorites? Yes. Do I think he completely redeemed himself? No. Anyway, that's all. There will be some more conversations between Hermione and Harry while they sort out their differences. But I just wanted to say my piece because I know people get very intense about this subject. Sorry, not sorry.


	14. Who Are You and What Have You Done with Ron Weasley

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the late posting.

* * *

**Saturday, November 21**

**Hermione**

Hermione had always loved winter. When it came to cold weather, most people preferred fall, but she always liked the actual cold winter – especially if it was snowing. She thought there was a strange beauty in winter. Sure, it could be gloomy if you thought of it that way, but she found it peaceful. It was like everything was sleepy. Plus, you couldn't beat the ambiance. She thoroughly enjoyed sipping something warm, wearing fuzzy slippers, sitting by the fire, and reading a good book or chatting with a friend. She didn't even mind being out in the cold.

However…

Hermione was not excited to spend this particular cold winter morning in the Quidditch stands. It was windy and loud, and though she did understand more now, it didn't make it any more interesting. And now that Ginny was on the team, she didn't even have her to sit by. Since Gryffindor was playing Ravenclaw, Luna would be sitting with her housemates.

Plus, she was at a titular point in her novel, the third in a four-part series. And not to mention, after the game she would have to join the celebration or pity party depending on the outcome. Either option would likely take all afternoon and evening.

It wasn't that she didn't want Gryffindor to win. She did enjoy the team spirit and, of course, celebrating her friends' victory. However, it was just a lot. And especially now that she had so little personal time to enjoy…

The wind rattled the window in her room. She sighed and threw on an extra sweater, tucking a spare scarf and her novel into her bag. She supposed that if she had to, she could just stay up and read it tonight.

On the way down to the Great Hall she reminisced about nights of staying up reading as a child. Her parents had tried to enforce an in-house curfew of sorts. After discovering literature, they'd become tired of her falling asleep at the breakfast table after staying up the entire night reading. However, she'd used her allowance to buy a flashlight and simply read in secret. She thought of the knowing looks her parents gave each other when she came to breakfast with bags under her eyes and asked to go to the library. She felt a sharp pain in her chest and tried not to dwell on it.

She entered the Great Hall which was buzzing with excitement. She sat down with Harry, Ginny, and Ron.

"Good morning! How are you all doing today?" she asked, standing between Harry and Ginny to hug them both and then kissing Ron on the cheek.

"Great!" Harry beamed at her, his eyes sparkling with the excitement only Quidditch could put there.

Ron's mouth was too full of food for him to form a coherent sentence but he hugged her shoulders as she sat down. What a difference a year makes, she thought. Or, rather, what a difference… everything makes. She remembered begging Ron to eat even half a piece of toast Fifth and Sixth years. Now, he was joking with Dean and Seamus and betting on how many goals he'd save. It made the pang in her heart from earlier warm.

After a bit, the teams headed down and Hermione scooted down towards Neville. She'd sat with Neville for the last game and during Sixth Year. It was nice because, while he enjoyed the game, he was always happy to talk about other things as well.

"Shall we head down soon? Get a good seat?" she asked him.

"Oh…" He rubbed his neck awkwardly, "I, uh, I'm going to sit with Luna actually. In the Ravenclaw stands."

"Oh. I see," she said. This was an unwelcome surprise. She looked around at the rest of the people sitting at the Gryffindor table. Parvati wasn't there. She and Padma had gone into Hogsmeade for the day. She suspected Parvati didn't want to watch the match without Lavender. They'd always made elaborate signs and decorated sweaters together, waking up early to braid red and gold ribbons in each other's hair. She supposed watching games without her would be a sad memory, indeed.

But, unfortunately, that left very few, if any, classmates that she was interested in sitting with. She noticed Abby, the First Year she'd asked to deliver a message, having a gold lion painted on her cheek by one of the other First Years. It made her feel painfully nostalgic. She remembered watching the games with Ron and Ginny before they joined the team. Before everything had gotten so complicated and awful.

"Hermione," Neville said, interrupting her internal dialogue. "You could sit with us. I'm sure Luna wouldn't mind."

She considered this. It would feel weird sitting away from the Gryffindor fans. But, it certainly beat sitting by herself. Plus, if all else failed, she had her book.

"That would be lovely!" She sent him a grateful smile and they headed off to pick up Luna from the next table and down to the stands.

Three hours and fifty-one minutes later, Hermione was sitting at the top of the Ravenclaw stands, reading her book. She glanced up to see if anything had changed. It hadn't. A lot of people had left. A nearly three and a half hour Quidditch game in the freezing cold and wind was more than most could stand. Especially since Gryffindor lead Ravenclaw 670 to 430. It was very unlikely they'd catch up, so most fans had started trickling out about 45 minutes ago, Luna and Neville among them. Hermione had felt like she should stay, considering her three closest friends made up half the team. However, her resolve was weakening with each goal Ron saved and each goal the Ravenclaw Keeper did not.

Her book, long completed, lay heavy in her bag. She suspected that, after they won, the team would need a decent amount of time to rest and shower before the festivities began. Additionally, they'd need time to rally up all of the various members of the House that had dispersed. Typically, everyone just headed back together. But with everyone scattered, they'd have to spread the word. She thought this would give her time to head into Hogsmeade and quickly pick up the next book in the series before coming back and celebrating with the team.

She spotted Harry who looked quite harassed flying around the pitch trying desperately to spot the snitch. The players on both teams looked exhausted, Chasers lazily tossing the Quaffle back and forth with no real effort. The Beaters had taken to avoiding the Bludgers rather than engaging them. She gazed over at Ron on the far side of the Pitch. She could tell from his posture that he was fading quickly.

In two hours, Madam Hooch would call a time out and would offer both team captains the opportunity to end the game without catching the Snitch. The team with the most points would win. The mercy rule didn't exist in professional Quidditch, but it had had to be enacted at Hogwarts 12 years ago when a game went on all weekend and six players got frostbite and one had to have 36 bones regrown after sleepily falling off his broom in the middle of the night. Either team could forfeit at any time, but they would end up with zero points towards the cup. She suspected Ravenclaw would hope one team would catch the Snitch, especially since Gryffindor would gain so many.

She noticed Ginny fly over to where Harry was circling and they flew together, talking seriously. She shot them an encouraging look. Harry grimaced at her. She waved over at Ron who turned away from her on his broom. He must not have seen her.

Twenty-six minutes later, Harry finally, _finally_ caught the Snitch and the game ended. Hermione estimated there were only about 60 people left in the stands at this point. They all cheered weakly and Hermione made her way to the changing rooms where she usually waited for Ron, Harry, and Ginny.

After about twenty minutes they filed out, looking cheerful but tired. Ginny and Harry high-fived her and she went to the back of the line to greet Ron. She reached out to grab his hand but he suddenly switched his bag from his right to left arm, blocking her.

"Good game, Ron!" she said enthusiastically.

"Thanks."

"You played well! I bet that's a record for number of goals saved!" She smiled at him brightly.

He huffed and grumbled something.

"Ron? It _was_ a great game, right?"

"Yeah, like you'd know," he spat.

"Huh?"

"I'm surprised you managed to see any of it, with your nose buried in that bloody book the whole time."

She was stunned. This was hardly the first time she'd read a book during a Quidditch match. She stared at him, flabbergasted, as he marched away. She ran after him.

"Ron! You know I always read during Quidditch matches! Even under the best circumstances, it doesn't always hold my attention. And this one was almost four hours long!"

"Yeah, I know. I played the whole four hours of it, if you didn't notice."

"I mean, I stayed didn't I?"

"Oh, so you get an award?" he said scathingly.

"Well, no, I just… What do you want from me? Even Luna and Neville left halfway-"

"And that's another thing!" His voice was raised now. The rest of the team had turned around to look. Harry sent her a questioning glance. He and Ginny stayed behind and the rest of the team headed back into the castle. "You didn't even sit with Gryffindor!"

"I… well… Neville was going to sit with Luna and since I didn't know anyone else, I took them up on their offer. I don't see-"

"OH THAT'S RICH. You didn't know anyone else? We've gone to school with these people for eight years now!" He was full on yelling now.

Hermione shrank back a bit. "You know what I mean. You guys are all on the team. I'm not close to anyone but you guys and Neville and Luna!"

"Well I can't believe you'd sit with the enemy!"

"The enemy?!" Hermione threw her hands in the air. "It's Ravenclaw, not Slytherin! Plus, you like Luna!"

"Not when we're playing Ravenclaw, I don't!"

She rolled her eyes. This was so stupid. He was just tired and grumpy. She'd just head up to the Common Room and they could talk once he came to his senses.

"How do I even know you weren't cheering for Ravenclaw, huh?"

That taunt she couldn't ignore.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS? What is wrong with you? Of course, I didn't cheer for Ravenclaw! Are you going to accuse me of helping Viktor win the Triwizard Tournament again next?"

"And what does he have to do with anything?"

"NOTHING! But that time you accused me of fraternizing with the enemy when I was just being friendly. I sat with two of our closest friends and cheered for my others who were playing! Why does it matter where I sat?"

"Because it just does! It's disloyal!" he said obstinately.

"Oh please. You're just upset because you played well and there wasn't a huge crowd of people there to worship at your feet at the end of the game! If a tree falls in the forest, but no one is around to see it…"

"Maybe I just wanted to look into the stands and see my girlfriend looking back at me, cheering with pride!" he roared.

"Well you would have seen that too! I was very proud! I already told you that you were brilliant!"

"Yeah well you have a funny way of showing it," he stalked off with long fast strides.

"Ron!" she said, throwing her hands in the air and chasing after him. She passed by Harry and Ginny. Ginny raised an eyebrow at her. Harry sped up too and flanked Ron on the other side.

"C'mon, mate, it doesn't matter. We won. Let's go celebrate."

"Well maybe I don't want to celebrate anymore," Ron grumbled.

"Seriously? I bet everyone's already back in the Common Room waiting for you guys," Hermione said.

"Maybe I just don't want to celebrate with _her_ ," Ron spat, quickening his pace.

Harry shot Hermione a look.

"Ron!" Hermione cried after him as he practically ran up the steps three at a time. She ran to catch up to him.

Harry grabbed her wrist. "Hermione…"

"What?"

"Maybe… maybe you should let him go. Let him settle down," he said, not meeting her eye.

"What?"

"Well… You were… a little out of line…" He kicked some dirt with his foot.

She was hurt. Harry never took either side. He always tried to maintain staunch neutrality. She felt her eyes stinging with tears and she tried her best to stifle the lump in her throat.

"Look, Hermione," he grabbed her hand. "Just… let him be for a bit. His pride just needs a little time. We'll see you at dinner, yeah?"

He gave her hand a squeeze and shot her an apologetic smile. Ginny shrugged over her shoulder at her as they headed back up into the castle.

Hermione let a few loose tears fall before deciding that she'd rather be angry than hurt.

_Fine. Just fine._

She stomped off in the direction of Hogsmeade.

* * *

**Draco**

Draco was lounging in a squishy chair in Flourish and Blotts with his feet up, perusing a book.

Elijah, the hero in this particular story was just about to make a grand romantic gesture to his love interest. He'd paid for a fancy bottle of champagne, to be served by candlelight in a room blanketed with white rose petals. _What a fucking prat. Rose petals? How original._ He scoffed, flipping through the pages. It appeared the git was now considering unceremoniously poisoning himself because she'd rejected his marriage proposal. _What a sad sack of rubbish. Shakespeare already did that bit, you useless git._ Draco threw the book onto the pile of other discarded books he'd burned through this afternoon. He picked up the next, but didn't think it looked promising, given the dramatized illustration of a brawny yet stupid looking shirtless man, carrying an unconscious woman out of a burning building. He tossed it aside, annoyed.

BANG!

Draco jumped as what sounded like a hundred books crashed to the floor in the aisle behind him.

He heard a woman muttering curses. She stomped off and then clumsily wheeled a cart around, hitting just about everything possible before throwing books onto it with wild abandon.

He rolled his eyes. She began banging around again. He cleared his throat in annoyance.

She was now rustling around on the shelves shoving books aside. A puff of dust flew into his face. He coughed.

After a few minutes, he was considering abandoning his once-quiet sanctuary, when something sharp and heavy hit him in the head.

"FUCKING MERLIN'S BALLS!" He yelled, seeing stars. "GODDAMMIT!"

He jerked in his chair, sending the large pile of novels cascading to the ground.

He heard a yelp of horror and more clamoring amongst cries of "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I'm so so so so so sorry. I can't believe—Malfoy?"

He rubbed his head where the corner of the book had jabbed him and looked up to see a flustered Granger standing over him.

"Granger?"

"I am so sorry, Malfoy. I was just trying to reach a book on the top shelf. I thought I could reach it, but I slipped and pushed it forward instead and then I think it fell forward onto you. I can't believe it. Do you feel okay? Should we go back up to the castle so you can see Madam Pomfrey? I hope you don't have a concussion. Is it tender?" she was blabbering impossible fast. He reached up to feel a bump on his head forming. He winced and she reached out as if to touch his head before thinking better of it.

He took in her appearance. Her hair was massive. He recognized the telltale sign of stress. She'd clearly been running her hands through it which had aggravated it into a state of insanity. Her eyes were apologetic and wild, though he thought they looked a little red. She was bundled up in the most nauseating display of Gryffindor spirit attire he'd ever seen.

"Excuse me. Do you mind?" A stern voice cut in. They turned back to see the disapproving store clerk eyeing them suspiciously. "I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your voice down and refrain from any more profanity." She glared at Draco. "Besides, we'll be closing shortly. Perhaps it would be best if both of you made your selections and paid."

_Oh screw you, you old hag. You'd curse too if someone dropped a book on your head._

"Yes, of course. I am so sorry, ma'am. It was all my fault. We'll clean this up right away," Granger said, wringing her hands. Granger looked over at him with an expectant and indignant expression.

"My apologies for my… outburst," Draco grumbled.

The store clerk rolled her eyes and turned away.

"Oh my gosh, Malfoy. I am so sorry. Is your head okay?" Granger asked looking stricken.

"Yes, I should live. What are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm looking for a book."

He rolled his eyes. "Obviously. It's a fucking bookstore." He began picking up the pile of novels now littering the floor. "I mean shouldn't you be up in Gryffindor Tower consoling the team?"

"We won, actually," she said in a dignified voice.

 _Bloody brilliant._ "Well then, shouldn't you be there celebrating?"

She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut before pushing him out of the way. "Here, let me help clean this up."

Panic seized him. "Oh, no it's fine, I've got it. I think-" He groaned as she picked up _Dragon Hearted Damsel_ , the book with the shirtless idiot.

"What's this? Dabbling in romance now?" she said, raising her eyebrow.

"I'm Christmas shopping. For my mother."

She cackled. "And you thought you'd get your mother a smut-filled romance novel?"

He grabbed it from her angrily and summoned all of the remaining books onto the go-back cart. "Well, I didn't know it was going to be so…. I asked that stupid clerk for recommendations for a middle-aged female reader and this" he gestured to the books, "is what she gave me."

Granger was giggling. "My mother reads those too. Well, the muggle ones anyway."

"Well, I'm not buying my mother… porn for Christmas."

Granger doubled up with laughter and the store clerk cleared her throat at the counter.

"Oh, come on. Grab whatever you're going to buy and let's get out of here before she has us thrown out, yeah?"

She shrugged. "They don't have it. That's why I was rummaging around up there. I was looking for _The Alchemist's Design_. But it's popular so I suppose they're out."

"Well, I have it. You can borrow it," he said, making for the door.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly. I'll just put in an order," she stammered.

"It's fine. I finished it last week. Let's go."

"Well, thank you. I finished the third one earlier today and I was excited to start the last installment. I appreciate it."

"You'll like it. It's the best one."

They nodded to the store clerk as they left, standing awkwardly in the street.

Granger checked her watch.

"Do you want to walk back up with me?" Draco asked.

"Oh, I'm not going back up yet."

"Do you have more errands to run?"

She shrugged and sighed.

"Is something wrong?"

"Ron is upset with me. I'm supposed to give him time to calm down."

He gritted his teeth. "What's gotten his panties in a twist? What's he decided you've done this time?"

She shrugged again. "I think it was me this time. Even Harry thinks so."

Draco wanted to run for the hills. He didn't want to discuss whatever petty issues she had with Potter and Weasley. He certainly didn't want to end up serving as a relationship therapist. But she looked so forlorn that he couldn't quite abandon her.

"Do… you want to talk about it?"

"No, it's okay. I'm sure you don't want to spend your afternoon listening to my dramas."

He silently thanked his luck but couldn't quite shake the feeling of guilt.

"Come on, Granger. I'll buy you a drink and you can tell me about it. At the very least, we can get out of this godforsaken wind."

Twenty minutes later they were sitting at a table in the Hog's Head and Granger was telling him about the match and subsequent argument.

"…and then I said that he was only upset because the game was so long that everyone had left so he didn't get a heroic sendoff."

Draco nearly coughed up his Butterbeer. "You said what?"

She shrugged. "It was a very long game. Once it became clear that Ravenclaw was going to lose, a lot of people started leaving."

Draco set his drink down and took a deep breath. "Look, it very well might kill me to say this, but I think I'm going to side with Tweedle-dee and Tweedledumb this time."

"What?!" She hissed.

"Look, Granger. He hasn't exactly had a great time playing Quidditch. And he has even less experience being the hero for it."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And whose fault is that, now Malfoy?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "I don't think I quite know what you mean," he lied.

"Oh please. You went out of your way Fifth and Sixth Year to taunt him and make sure he was miserable playing Quidditch."

"Hey! Every player has their own insecurities and he had his. I just… played on that." He backtracked as she made to scoot her chair out and leave. "But, I will admit that perhaps the song was a bit… harsh."

"Oh, you think so, do you?"

Draco shrugged. "Don't tell me Potter and Weasley don't enjoy insulting me to my face and behind closed doors."

"THAT SONG GOT HARRY, FRED, AND GEORGE BANNED!" she yelled.

"And here I thought you didn't care about Quidditch," he countered.

"I _care_ about my friends. And that Umbridge hag was cruel and-"

"Of course, the song worked them up! That was the whole point of it. It worked perfectly. And if you'll recall, Potter managed to get in quite a few punches, so I'd say we're even." He interrupted her before she could retort. "If you'd like to discuss the various things we've all put each other through and debate the fairness of their provocations, we'll be here until next year. And most of those I won't come off the hero, I know that. Look, all I'm saying is, it's no secret Weasley never gets any glory and it was a low blow for you to throw that in his face whether it was true or not."

He could tell she knew he was right because she had her arms crossed and was looking resolutely away from their table. She huffed.

"Fine. But I don't get why it's a big deal I read at the game. I've brought a book to almost every Quidditch game I've attended. And several of those were while he was on the team and he never had an issue with it before!"

Draco shrugged. "You weren't his girlfriend then."

"What difference does that make?"

"It just does. I obviously don't know him very well, thank Merlin, but maybe he was trying to impress you."

She scoffed. "Well, that's the most idiotic thing I've ever heard. Everyone knows I couldn't care less about Quidditch. Why would he try to impress me with something I don't care about?"

"Honestly, I'd never have pegged you for the emotionally dim one in the relationship, Granger."

She looked offended.

"I am not dim."

"Well, it doesn't matter if it's important to you or not. It's important to him."

He watched the wheels turn in Granger's head. Finally, she said, "I guess I just don't understand what the big deal was. I was there. And it's not like I started reading until after Neville and Luna left."

"Honestly, that almost makes it worse, I think," Draco said, taking another sip.

"What? How?"

Draco sighed. "Maybe it made him feel like you didn't even go for him. You only went to hang out with your friends. You were only engaged when they were there. Once they left, you didn't even care about the game anymore."

"Of course I cared! But regardless, that's not how I meant it to-"

"Granger. I am the last person to be giving anybody relationship advice. But I know a fair amount what it's like to have a massive and fragile ego. I also know that it's not about what you meant, necessarily. It's about the other person's perceptions. You can only control your actions and your thoughts. I'm not saying he deserves to feel slighted. I'm only saying that you don't get to choose how he feels." She opened and closed her mouth a few times before scowling into the distance. "Well, I'm going to get us another round. When I come back can we please, for the love of all that is holy, talk about anything other than Weasley? I think I might actually be sick if I have to try to interpret his emotions anymore."

* * *

**Hermione**

Hermione stood in the Entrance Hall nervously. She could hear students heading down towards dinner. She kept an eye on the corridor from where she knew the Gryffindor students would appear. She hoped she could grab Ron and talk to him alone.

Ginny came bounding down the stairs and caught Hermione's eye. She looked giddy and relaxed. There definitely had been a celebration. Hermione hoped that Ron had been able to enjoy himself after all. She felt guilty that she hadn't been the one to make him feel that way. Ginny lead Harry and Ron over to her. Harry had a poorly smudged red lipstick mark on his cheek and Ron had a bit of confetti in his hair. She smiled at them.

"Dinner, then?" Harry asked pointing the way.

"Actually, Ron, can we talk?"

Ron nodded curtly and the other two took their cue to move along.

"Hermione I-"

She cut him off. "Ron, I'm really sorry. About what I said and… I didn't mean to make you feel..." She couldn't quite bring herself to look him in the eye. She realized she'd never really apologized to him before. Maybe a few times here and there, but nothing big. It was an uncomfortable, vulnerable feeling.

"It's alright. I think I might have overacted."

She peaked a glance at him. He was looking down at her.

"I know Quidditch is important to you and it wasn't my intention-"

"Really, Hermione, it's fine. I know you don't care about it that much."

She reached for his hand. "But you do. And that matters to me. And I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't care."

"Honestly, it's not even that, really."

She looked up at him and he was smiling sadly. "What then?"

"Well, when you told me you were reading about Quidditch I convinced myself that you'd start to like it. I… I don't know… pictured you screaming in the stands and calling out fouls and things. Us going to a pub and having fun listening to the games. I think I was just disappointed when I realized that wouldn't… happen. I know now… just because you understand it doesn't mean you like it. I was just being stupid."

 _Oh. Ohhhh._ She supposed she should have seen this coming.

"Ron…"

"I know. You'll never like Quidditch. I just got my hopes up, is all."

"Well, I did start learning about it so I wouldn't be quite so bored during conversations about it. And I'll admit I did really enjoy the history of it. And now that I know more about some of the strategies it does help. I mean I was thinking during the game of Muffin's Strategy or whatever and I wondered if Harry knew anything about it. I knew he wasn't doing it, but I was thinking about the implications of it.

The strategy was a situation in which a team's Seeker tried to ensure the other team didn't catch the Snitch while actively choosing not to catch it themselves. This way they could earn their team the maximum number of points. It was a gamble and didn't always work out and had only been used a few times successfully.

Ron smiled at her sadly. "Mooflin's."

"Whatever."

After a moment of awkward silence Ron suggested they go eat. They were about to head in that direction when several things happened at once. the door to the Entrance Hall opened and a large gaggle of Fourth Years poured through, knocking Ron's bag out of his hand. Ron knelt down to pick up his bag and pile the various parchments back into it. Hermione heard someone call her name. She wheeled around to see Malfoy grumpily pushing aside one of the Fourth Year girls to stand in front of her.

"Here's that book," he said, brandishing it in front of her.

"Malfoy?" Ron stood up looking confused and suspicious.

"Oh. Weasley. I see you two made up then," he added seeing their joined hands.

Hermione groaned internally. It wasn't that she was going to _lie_ , per say, about spending the afternoon with Malfoy. But she hadn't exactly decided to bring it up either. I mean, who would know, really. After two drinks they'd parted ways. She went to finish her holiday shopping and said he had things to do. It hadn't been quite as lighthearted of a time as the first time, but she also hadn't gotten rip-roaring drunk. But they did chat casually for a bit and she'd found it enjoyable. She suspected she'd caught him in one of his rare pleasant and non-prickly moods and she discovered it was quite an interesting juxtaposition to the air he normally put on.

"What's it to you?" Ron spat.

Malfoy shrugged. "I don't really care. I guess now I won't have to hear you bickering all through dinner. Anyway, enjoy the book, Granger. See you around."

Before she could even open her mouth to say thank you, he'd turned on his heel and stalked off.

She wheeled around to face Ron. "Look, Ron-"

He simply looked at her dumbfounded, if not a little confused. "You told him that we'd fought?"

"Well, yes. I was upset and he asked why. He sort of helped me understand that I needed to be a little more sensitive." She knew it was cowardly, but she couldn't bring herself to look into his eyes.

"Oh. Okay, then."

Either he was so happy and relaxed from whatever celebration had happened in Gryffindor Tower that it was delaying the ultimate explosion, or she was in some alternate universe where Ron didn't care that she'd essentially abandoned him for his archenemy. _Lies of omission are just as bad, Hermione_ , she heard her mother say in her memory.

She took a deep breath. "I ran into him in Hogsmeade after you went back up to the castle. I sort of accidentally threw a book at him and then we had a couple Butterbeers together and talked about school and stuff. But I _swear_ , Ron. It wasn't intentional. I was so hurt that you guys had abandoned me and I guess I was lonely. He just finished the series that I've been reading and he offered to let me borrow the last installment because the store was out of it. I also wanted to know how his aquarium project is going. And we have to pre-plan for Sprout's spring capstone project. And, yes, he bought my drinks. But nothing happened. Nothing. It wasn't like a date or anything like that. I swear. There's nothing between-"

"Hermione, I know."

"What?" she snapped her head up so quickly she cricked her neck.

"You told me there's nothing going on between you and Malfoy. I believe you. I don't like him, but he seems pretty harmless these days. And I know you're… friendly." He made a face.

"Oh. Well… thanks for understanding, I guess." She began wringing her hands, feeling very out of sorts.

He shrugged.

"So… you're really… not mad?"

"No, I guess not."

"Oh. Okay. Good then."

"Can we go to dinner now? I'm really hungry," he asked casually after a beat, as though nothing had just happened.

She nodded and followed him off into the Great Hall, contemplating this version of Ron that she hadn't, once in eight years, ever seen.


	15. Hurricane Weasley

**Author's Note:** Hi everybody. Thanks for your patience. This life thing is really something sometimes! I've been really busy at work and with family, so it's been hard to churn out a chapter a week. But I wrote and edited all day today, so hopefully I'll be on track for a bit. I appreciate you all reading and those of you who have left comments. Hope you're all staying healthy and hangin' in there.

 **Content Warning:** Contains discussions of mental illness, loss, and self harm. Nothing too graphic or intense (in my opinion), but mind your triggers.

**Also, VOTE!**

* * *

**Monday, November 23**

**Harry**

"Hi Harry. How are you today?" Mandy asked with her usual polite curiosity.

"I'm fine."

"How have things been?"

"Alright," he said, shrugging.

She studied him for a moment.

"Professor McGonagall informed me that you may not be back after the winter holiday."

He momentarily wondered how she found out about that. But, he supposed Kingsley may have written to her too. Over the summer, he'd told Kinsley he was going to return to Hogwarts for at least the fall semester. Though he'd been disappointed that Harry had declined his offer to join the Auror program, he'd understood and asked Harry to let him know when he was ready. Last week, Kingsley had sent him a letter asking if he'd reconsidered.

In truth, he had never really intended to stay at Hogwarts for the spring semester. He was sure Ron had guessed. He was avoiding telling Hermione and Ginny. He was sure Hermione wouldn't approve. He was afraid Ginny would see it as a repeat of him leaving after Sixth Year.

"Maybe. Kingsley offered me a job."

"With the Ministry?" she asked. Harry rolled his eyes internally. He was sure she already knew.

"Yes. In the Auror program."

"Congratulations. That's quite a high honor."

He shrugged. "I guess."

"How long have you wanted to be an Auror."

"Since Fourth Year. Moody – well Crouch Jr. as Moody told me I'd be a good one. And I guess it just stuck."

"I see." She studied him carefully. "Surely you're 'resume,' so to speak, would indicate that you are qualified."

He barked a short laugh. "That's one way of looking at it."

"I assume you've considered what that career path would mean," she said politely. He tilted his head in question. "It would mean much more proximity to the dark arts and dark wizards."

He sighed. "Yes, I have."

"And how do you feel about that?" she asked. He suspected she was growing impatient with him.

"It will be hard, the training, I think. But I doubt anything I face will be harder than what I've already done. And it's what I've always wanted to do. I'm excited to start moving on."

"What makes you excited about being an Auror?"

"It just feels like what I should be doing. Like the next step."

"Okay. Have you ever considered something else?"

Harry finally snapped. "Do you not approve of Aurors or something? Do you have some agenda against them? Why does it matter to you what I want to do with my life? It's not as though I'm talking about running off and getting addicted to Dreamless Sleep Potion or something. I want to protect the world from dangerous people. Most people would think it was honorable or something."

She smiled at him softly. "Harry, you misunderstand me. I think it's very impressive that you want to be an Auror. Many people would probably think they'd had enough of the heavy stuff after everything you've been through. If there's one thing that's obvious, it's that your propensity for protecting people you love – protecting anyone – is one of your strongest instincts. It's natural you would gravitate to a career in which you can feed and exercise your greatest strengths. I just wondered if you'd ever considered going about it in a slightly less literal way."

Harry wasn't sure if he was being complimented or not. "Like I said, it's what I've always thought I would do.

"Well, is there anything else you like to do? If things were different and you'd never heard of being an Auror, what would you want to do?"

Harry considered this. He shrugged. "The only thing I like is Quidditch."

"Would you want to be a professional Quidditch player? You're quite good. I watched the last match."

"Oh. Thank you. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like playing it. And flying is amazing. It makes me feel free. But I don't think I'd want to play professionally. I don't think I'd like the traveling. Plus…" He looked at his feet and shifted uncomfortably. "I… don't think I want any more publicity than I already get."

Mandy laughed. "I suppose I can understand that. What about teaching? From what I've heard you were quite successful during your time leading the DA."

Harry did miss the DA. He missed getting to see his classmates grow. And he missed… Well, he wouldn't go there.

"And what's that got to do with anything?"

"Only that many times people enjoy the things that they're best at. I just wondered if you'd ever considered a career in teaching."

"Look, I get what you're trying to do," Harry said softly. "I want to be an Auror. And that's what I'm going to do in January." He honestly hadn't even realized that he'd decided until he'd said it. But once he did, it felt right.

Mandy smiled at him. "Well, congratulations, Harry. I am sure you will make a great Auror."

"Er, thanks."

They were quiet for a while. Harry watched a Thestral fly over the forest. He sighed.

"I don't know what to do with myself," he almost whispered.

"And why is that, Harry?"

He chanced a look at her. He couldn't place her expression. It wasn't quite triumph and it wasn't quite pity.

"Because there's nobody… I don't have any… There's nothing to… fix. There's just nothing to fix. Nothing to save people from. Nobody to defeat. I've never been… content before. Happy, yes. Peaceful? No, not really. I can enjoy Hogwarts without worrying it's going to end up a dream. There's no great monster petrifying my friends. No one is trying to murder me. I can dance with my girlfriend at the spring formal without worrying if I'm going to fail at some great international tournament. No one is invading my mind. There are no horcuruxes to find. No one at school is doing anything nefarious. I go to sleep every night in a warm bed after stuffing myself with great food. I'm fairly confident that all of the people I love – all of the people I know – will still be here a year from now. There's a hole where the people I've lost are. But the bigger hole is something different. It's a weight. Something I was carrying around. And it's gone. And I'm glad it is. I can't even say how much. But I don't know what to do without it."

He wasn't quite sure what had made him say it. He knew this was the kind of thing she'd been trying to drag out of him for months now. It had come bursting out of him with a mind of it's own, like a living being dying to be free. And now it was and it made him feel emptier.

"How long have you felt this way?" Mandy asked, not reacting at all.

"Since after the battle," he said, his mouth moving without permission. "I mean, I didn't know it. But almost immediately, I knew things would be different. I think that's why I let Hermione convince me to come back. I wasn't ready for it to end."

"It?" Mandy asked.

"Yeah."

"The war?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"Hogwarts."

"But you're ready to leave now?"

"It doesn't feel… right. I don't feel like I belong."

Mandy shifted in her seat and blinked at him slowly. "How so, Harry?"

"I'm too… It feels like I'm playing a part. I'm sitting in the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione and Ginny. And we're laughing about the way Filche's eyes bulged out of his head when we tracked in mud. And suddenly I remember the way it felt when Voldemort looked into my eyes. And it just… All of a sudden, I'm not Harry, Captain of the Quidditch Team, boyfriend, best friend, anymore. I'm the Chosen One. And I can't help but wonder what it would have been like to not worry about all that. To just be normal."

"And you don't feel like you're able to enjoy that this year?"

"It just feels like pretending. Who am I without all those other things? I can't change them. They'll always be a part of me. It just feels wrong to sit around and pretend I'm just another student."

"Have you talked to any of your friends about this?"

Harry shook his head. "I think they'd just tell me to enjoy it."

Mandy shrugged at him, flipping a page in her notebook. "Maybe they're pretending too."

* * *

**Friday, November 27**

**Ron**

As they walked back up to the school from Care of Magical Creatures, Ron was thanking whatever deity existed that they were done with classes. Once Hermione came back from her session with Mandy they could all just relax. They were considering going down to Hogsmeade to blow off some steam.

Harry was mocking him for the singe to his eyebrow he'd sustained, trying to wrestle a mini dragon into it's cage. He pretended to be upset about it. Luna and Neville joined in the fun, until Ron started to recount all of the various ways Neville had embarrassed himself over the years. He started to feel guilty when he saw the stricken look on Luna's face. He'd opened his mouth to try to walk it back when they turned the corner and saw McGonagall sweeping towards them seriously.

"Weasley!" she barked.

Harry and Ron looked at each other nervously. For once they could honestly say they'd done nothing wrong. At Hermione's behest, they'd both been relatively well-behaved since her birthday incident. She'd told them that if their detentions made her spend any more Saturdays by herself, she'd start forcing them to follow her study schedule.

"Er, yes, Professor?"

"Please come with me. There's… a situation with which we need to discuss." Though the tone of her voice held the same urgency he was used to, he realized her face didn't look angry. It looked… concerned.

Harry had noticed it too. "Is everything alright, Professor?"

McGonagall looked at him for a long moment before saying, "Hm, maybe it would be best if you came too, Potter."

Ron suddenly felt cold. The last time something like this had happened, it had turned out that Hermione had been petrified.

It seemed Harry's line of thought had gone on the same track.

"Is everything okay? Is it Ginny?" He asked quickly. Ron cleared his throat angrily. "Hermione?"

McGonagall shook her head.

_She shook her head. Does that mean it's not one of them? Or that it is and they're not okay?_

"Come with me, boys."

_Worse than that?_

Ron found himself silently cursing the size of Hogwarts. How long could it take to reach the Head's office? Finally, McGonagall had muttered the password (Hawkshead Attack) and they'd passed through the gargoyle guarding her office and were pacing silently up the stairs. He couldn't explain it, but every step felt more like he was heading towards something that would be his demise. She burst through the door and held it open for them. Harry strode in like he owned the place. Ron stumbled over the threshold, feeling like his feet were too large for their own good.

"Mum? Dad?" Ron staggered to a halt as he saw his parents in McGonagall's office. His mother was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the Headmistress's desk, wringing her hands and sniffling. His father stood behind her, uncharacteristically stiff. His eyes looked vacant.

_The last time they were like… No. No. I won't… It can't be. We can't. There's no way…_

His mother ran towards them and stifled both Harry and Ron in a suffocating hug. Ron's body felt too sluggish to speak, like cement was now coursing through his vocal chords. Harry spoke for him.

"Mrs. Weasley? Is everything alright?"

His mother was now complaining about his robes and how it was impossible that he was still growing. She was fussing about Harry's hair and how tired he looked.

 _Well, she's talking. The last time…_ He shook his head as if to shake the possibilities away.

"What about Ginevra? Is she? Could you find her?" his mother was begging of McGonagall who was reassuring her and giving her a pat on the back.

 _Wait, so it_ is _about Ginny?_

Harry had gone over to shake his dad's hand.

_Fucking Merlin I'm dying over here._

"WOULD SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON?" Ron shouted.

_I'm only about to have a heart attack over here._

The room stilled. His dad cleared his throat and held out his hand for his mother. She scurried back over to him and they resumed their post, her sitting and wringing her hands and he with his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them lightly. McGonagall sank into her desk.

"It seems… that… something has… happened. With your brother," McGonagall croaked.

He felt like the air had been sucked from the room. _Okay. So it's not Ginny. Well, one down. Five… No_ four _to go._ He held his breath and turned to face his parents.

"Ron. George—"

 _The walls started to close in. No. No. Just, no._ He couldn't blinked his eyes and tried to wake up. He gasped for a long breath. When was the last time he inhaled? For some reason, in this moment, he couldn't help but remember the panic in Pettigrew's face when that hand…

He felt a hand on his shoulder, bracing for the worst, preparing for the unthinkable.

"Ron, it's alright. He's okay. It's not… I mean, it's not good, but it's not… _that_." Ron's gaze snapped up to his father whose pleading look haunted him more than that day in the Great Hall. _Well, not quite as bad. But it's not good._ "He's had a bit… He's in St. Mungos. He went back to the shop today. And I guess it was too much. Anyway, we're not sure what happened but we got word from the healers we went there right away but he wouldn't... He said…"

There was a rushing, thumping in his head. He was transported back to last spring. Bounding up the stairs. Seeing her spread out on the floor. A cackling. But this time, the rushing didn't make him think faster. This time it was impeding his thoughts like liquor. The rest of whatever his dad was saying sounded far away. Something about Knockturn Alley. Something about a bar. Something about a refusal. His mother sobbed. The hand, Harry's he now suspected, shoved him towards the chair next to his mother's. He sank into it.

The door banged open. Ron whipped around to see who it was, the sudden velocity making his head spin through the gelatinous air he was breathing.

He locked eyes with Ginny and she let out a soft, whimpering scream, rushing to Harry.

Very slowly, the walls retreated and the air around him became clearer, as his father recounted the story in detail to the both of them. Ginny was asking hurried questions. His parents were reassuring her. She sobbed quietly. He was glad Harry was there. He'd be able to recount it later. The rushing had turned into a deep ringing.

"Ron?" His mother's voice snapped him out of his haze. "So you'll come with us right? You'll talk to him?"

He shook his head to escape the rest of the haze. Nodding and whispering, he said, "Yes. Of course."

"Mrs. Weasley? Mr. Weasley? I don't want to intrude. Could I… Maybe I could accompany him? Just to keep an eye?" Harry was mumbling behind him and the voices of his parents agreed and hugged Harry tightly.

All of a sudden, everyone was standing. McGonagall was saying something about talking to their professors. Harry was calling Kreacher, asking him to pack them up a weekend bag and deliver it to the Burrow. Ginny was fussing about something. McGonagall hugging his mother.

"WAIT!" Ginny shouted. "You're just going to LEAVE me here?"

There was a resounding silence.

"Ginny," his mother said, trying to be comforting. "I think it would be best if you waited."

"NO. If he is at St. Mungo's, I'm going. You can't stop me."

An argument of sorts ensued between his mum and Ginny. McGonagall was sputtering about all the yelling. Harry tried to butt in. Now Ginny was yelling at Harry.

"Ginny," his dad said, with the quiet finality he rarely used. It always silenced the room more efficiently than Mum's screaming. "He doesn't want to see you."

Another resounding silence.

"He… He doesn't?" she said in a meek voice that he didn't think he'd heard from her since her First Year.

His dad shuffled his feet. "He told the healer he wouldn't see anyone but Ron. And especially… not you. I'm sorry Ginny."

"He really said that?"

"He's not well, honey," his dad reassured her.

"It's okay, Gin," Harry said, stroking her hair. "He just needs some time. Why don't you write him. I'm sure he'll be excited to hear from you when he's feeling better."

"I'm his sister. He doesn't get to make demands if he's going to try—"

A soft knock on the door interrupted them.

Hermione entered. She assessed the room and he could practically hear her mind whirring. She had barely had time to make eye contact with Ron and open her mouth to find out why she'd been summoned, when Ginny let out an undetermined stream of curses and insults and dragged her out of the room. Before rounding the staircase, Hermione mouthed "Owl me" with a pleading look.

There was a moment of stunned silence before he was being shoved towards the Floo.

* * *

**Friday, November 27 (later)**

**Ron**

Ron had been pacing outside of the room at St. Mungo's for almost an hour. The healer had told he and Harry that they could go in after his examination.

"What the hell kind of exam takes an hour, Harry?" He said irritably.

"I think it's… I think the healer he's meeting with is… like Mandy. You know?" Harry said softly.

Ron grumbled and continued his pacing.

Finally, the door opened and a motherly-looking healer came out of the room.

"Well?" he asked abrasively.

She appraised him. "Mr. Weasley I presume? Ronald?"

He nodded.

"And who is this?" She jerked her head towards Harry.

"Uh. Harry Potter? Maybe you've heard of him?"

"Would you mind accompanying me to my office, Mr. Weasley?"

"No. I'm staying right here. Tell me about my brother." If he was Hermione, he would have stamped his foot.

"Sir," she said patiently. "I can't divulge any information in front of anyone but you, as you're listed as his emergency contact."

Ron rolled his eyes. "He's Harry Fucking Potter. Savior of the wizarding world and practically my brother. You can say whatever in front of him.

"Ron…. It's alright. I'll go find your parents and let them know that you're going in to see him," Harry said.

"No, this is stupid. I'm sure George would want to see you. You're practically a brother to him too! I don't get why she won't let you." He was shouting again.

"Ron, it's really fine. You go in there and talk to him. And I'll be out here with your parents when you get done." He clapped Ron on the back and walked away before he could argue.

Ron turned back around to the healer. "Well?" he demanded.

"Mr. Weasley, I am Healer Faris. I specialize in mental and emotional ailments and I've been on your brother's case since he was admitted yesterday." She stuck out her hand and Ron shook it, somewhat aggressively. "He was brought in after he was found unconscious in Knockturn Alley with a concussion and facedown in a puddle. It's unclear for how long he was unconscious and deprived of oxygen. Diagnostics indicated he'd ingested… a variety of both legal and controlled substances." Ron's stomach took a nasty flip. "After removing them from his system, we left him sedated while we could determine if his nervous system had sustained any permanent damaged." Ron held his breath. "It appears he will make a full recovery," she said, smiling at him reassuringly. "After he regained consciousness, we were able to convince him to tell us his name. He wanted to be released without next of kin being notified, but he wasn't strong enough to walk on his own. He was… quite agitated." Ron closed his eyes. He could see how the altercation would have gone down. "I've been in to talk with him multiple times. He won't talk to me about anything personal or emotional. He refuses to tell us his history of drug and alcohol use, so it's difficult to tell if this was an isolated incident or a habit. Additionally, he won't speak to the circumstances of the… overdose, for lack of a better word. It's unclear whether the incident was accidental or intentional."

Ron's mind was racing. "Intentional as in…?"

"Self harm." The phrase hung in the air like a troll and Ron was unable to see around it.

"And I can see him now?"

She sighed. "Yes. He refused to see your parents or allow any medical information to be released to them. They were… also quite agitated."

"Yeah. I bet."

"But, yes, he said he'd see you. Please encourage him to seek help. I know that he has sustained a very great loss. It's natural that he would need help handling that. But if he has another incident like that and he isn't found so quickly… It could be very bad."

"How bad?" Ron asked.

She studied him and frowned. "He was very, _very_ lucky that the bartender chose to take out the garbage at that moment. Another few minutes and there might not have been anything we could have done."

Ron felt like he'd been doused in ice water. Before he had been able to process this unthinkable scenario, she'd opened the door for him and he stepped inside.

George was sitting up in the bed, reading a Quidditch magazine. "Nice of you to come, little bro," he said without even looking up.

"What the hell happened, George?" he demanded.

"Didn't Healer Whatserface tell you everything you need to know?" he sounded bored.

"She told me the gist of it. Enough for me to want to kick your ass."

"Well can you wait and do it once I get home? I'd really prefer not to be here any longer than I need to be and I'm fairly sure if you try to beat me up they'll want to keep me for observation." He turned a couple pages, crinkling his brow at an article.

" _Try_ to beat you up? Oh I'll do a lot more than that. Do you have any idea? Do you know? I mean come on, George!"

"Please. You wouldn't be able to beat me up even in my 'weakened' state. Don't embarrass yourself." He flipped another page.

Ron ripped the magazine out of his hands and set it on fire.

"HEY! I was reading that!" he said angrily.

"Well I don't fucking care. You won't talk to Mum and Dad. You won't talk to your healers. They say you were an inch from death. You'd better start talking to me right now or I'll make sure you stay in this ruddy room for the rest of your life!" He shouted.

George raised an eyebrow at him. "And I always thought Perce had inherited Mum's anger."

Ron knew he was baiting him. And he knew he was reaching near-Mum levels of nagging and meddling. But he didn't care. He'd never been so relieved and so angry simultaneously.

"You can joke all you want, but _you_ didn't have to see Mum sobbing on McGonagall. _You_ didn't have to watch Dad tell me he almost lost _another_ son with a dead look in his eyes. _You_ didn't have to be there when Ginny was told that her brother and _hero_ refused to see her. So tell me what the hell happened! Or at the very least tell me if you were trying to kill yourself."

George looked up from his cuticles and narrowed his eyes. He sighed in exasperation. "Well I wasn't trying to off myself or anything. Don't be so dramatic."

"Dramatic. _Dramatic?_ DRAMATIC!" He shouted

"Oh don't lose your panties, Ronniekins."

Ron cursed at him and began pacing the room, muttering to himself.

"Man, I'm not the only one whose gone round the bend."

Ron glared at him. He tried to focus, tried to calm down. He knew if Hermione were here she'd handle this so much better. She'd be calm and compassionate. She'd be kind and understanding. Empathetic. At least for a while. She'd kick his ass the moment she got the information she wanted out of him. But at least at the beginning she'd be calmer. He took a deep breath and noisily dragged a chair over to sit by the bed.

"Okay, George. I'm sorry I yelled. I… You can't imagine… Well, you can. I guess that's the problem. When McGonagall pulled me into her office and I saw Mum and Dad there… And I just assumed the worst. I was so scared. I just… I mean we're all barely holding it together. And I just didn't know what I'd do if… We can't lose you, man. Mum can't handle it. Ginny can't. I can't." He used all his Gryffindor bravery to stare directly into George's eyes even though he could feel his eyes getting watery and his throat catching.

George blinked at him.

"Well, like I said. It wasn't on purpose. I just… got a bit carried away."

Ron scoffed. "An understatement. Well, start from the beginning." At seeing George's jaw set, he unceremoniously dropped his bag of books (he'd forgotten he even had it on him) onto George's stomach and began rifling through it, spreading them out. "I'm not leaving until you do. And I have quite a bit of studying to do. Y'know. NEWTs and all."

George was silent. Ron continued to rifle though the bag. He'd forgotten he had Hermione's copy of _A History of Magic – Extended Edition: Goblin Wars_ with him. He'd offered to carry it for her. He leaned back in his chair, put his feet up on the bed, and began to read aloud. "You don't mind if I read aloud, do you? Hermione always says it leads to much better retention. No? Perfect. So… In February of 1562, Grand Goblin Gorpuk began to grow unsatisfied with Minister Sblylesby and called the Goblin Council to order. In March of 1562, the Council voted unanimously to increase tariffs on Eastern European Goblin clans. In April, The Eastern European Czar Zorsolich retaliated by banning all Western European Goblins from accessing their ore supplies. In May of 1562—"

"Oh my god, stop," George said. "Fine. I'll tell you. Just stop reading that infernal book."

Ron smirked.

"Geeze. Don't the muggles have a law against cruel and unusual torture."

Ron shrugged. "Hermione's been doing it to me for seven years now and I'm fine."

George laughed. "Well, that's debatable."

Ron shut the book. "So? What the hell happened yesterday?"

George sighed. "Look. I'm only telling you so that you'll tell that stupid shrink lady and maybe she'll have less questions to ask me, okay? You're to tell her what I said. And don't ask questions. I can easily kick you out."

Ron rolled his eyes but nodded.

"Fine. So it all started when Mum was gonna force me to clean up my room. Well, your room. She was treating me like a bloody first year and I just couldn't take it anymore. Always nagging me about drinking and wanting to 'talk' and all that nonsense. So I decided maybe it was time to go back to the shop. I'm not daft. I knew it would suck, but I figured maybe it'd be better. So I went back. And it was… well I won't say okay. But, I was surviving. It was all manageable, until I started cleaning up the office. We'd never gone back after the wedding and every shop in Diagon got looted. So it was a mess. Most of it was just old paperwork and stuff. But I stumbled on an old howler-type product we were working on. You can choose various button styles and record a message and it'll play for a certain number of times until the charm wears off. I accidentally pressed it… And…" He turned away.

"And?"

"Well, I realized… when I heard it that I'd started to forget what his voice sounded like. What kind of… Anyway, I went to the Leaky. And after Tom wouldn't serve me anymore… I went in search of… other forms of amnesia. I mean it wasn't all drugs and stuff. We tried all sorts of mad stuff and combinations when we were testing for products. I knew some combinations of things that would bring about the desired… effects. But after a few tries… I knew I needed something stronger. So I strolled on down to ol' Knockturn Alley and found a shady looking pub that would serve a bloke who'd clearly already had too much. And this girl offered me some of what she was having. I remember going around the back alley to take a piss. I wanna say I tripped? My head hurts like hell and they won't give me anything for it. Anyway, you know the rest."

Ron stared at him with an open mouth.

"Merlin, George. You would have been safer licking the dump sink in the potions lab!"

George shrugged. "All in all, probably not my brightest moment. But she was cute. And the stuff she had… it was fun."

Ron hit him on the head with the book. "Don't joke. I know you better than that." After a moment he continued. "So you really weren't… You were just being stupid?"

Geeorge sighed. "No, Ron. I am not anymore of a danger to myself than I ever have been. If anything, I'm less so because there's not someone else encouraging me and coming up with mad ideas," he barked a sad laugh. "I promise. I wasn't trying to off myself. I haven't considered that for a while."

"FOR A WHILE?" Ron roared.

George rolled his eyes. "Come on, Ron. You're not a kid anymore. I was in a pretty dark place for a while. Still am, really. I didn't think I would ever get any better. I still don't really think so. Never how I was. I don't think I can ever truly be that… lighthearted. And I thought, what's the point. If my purpose is to make people laugh and I can't do that, maybe I just shouldn't be a burden anymore. But… watching you pathetically try to make everybody laugh… I realized how much everyone needed it, even if it was an awful attempt. I figured maybe one day I'd get better enough to… I don't know what. Plus, I figure if I showed up anytime soon wherever he is now, he'd rip me a new one and I wouldn't even get to enjoy the reunion. So I figured I'd stay for a while." He shrugged like it was all very casual. Like he wasn't just justifying his life and existence.

"Well that's just the stupidest shit I've ever heard! We don't just want you around because you're funny. You're my brother. I'll always… I'll _always_ love you. If I ever hear… Just, don't leave us. You're not half of a whole. You're George. That's all you need to be. If you want to sell the joke shop, fine. If you never want to tell a joke again, fine. You just don't get to tap out because… You just don't."

"Sheesh, chill out. I already told you. I don't have any more plans for that. I wouldn't do that to Mum and Gin."

_Well, at least there's that._

"You know you're gonna have to talk to that healer, right? They're not gonna let you out of here without doing some serious head shrinking."

George rolled his eyes and summoned another magazine from across the room. "Yeah, yeah. I'll make sure to tell her it's all Mum's fault. Aren't mommy issues a big thing in the muggle world?"

Ron laughed. "Speaking of, you gotta let them see you. She was _devastated_. I can't go out there and tell them that you still won't see them."

He huffed.

"And Ginny. You are her hero. And you told the healers, 'especially not Ginny?'" I've never seen her so hurt. Hermione will keep her from escaping tonight, but first thing tomorrow, you can bet your left nut she'll be here demanding to see you. And you know she'll blow the door down. And I'd really prefer to not have a brother in the hospital and a sister in prison, yeah?"

George grumbled. "Fine. Let in Hurricane Molly."

* * *

**Sunday, November 29**

**Monica Wilkins**

Monica loved Christmas music. It was less than a month until Christmas, so Wendell could no longer stop her from blasting it full volume, per their long-standing agreement.

He grumbled in the passenger seat as she sang along, horribly out of tune, to "All I Want for Christmas Is You" at the red light. The light turned green and she drove into the intersection.

A movement to her left caught her eye and she looked over.

The air escaped from her lungs.

It was true, what they said. Things really do move in slow motion. She was barraged by images.

_The day she graduated from dental school, hugging her friends and classmates._

_Her third date with Wendell when she realized he was the one._

_Drinking champagne, sitting on the floor of an unfurnished dental office, her friends toasting to "The Grangers!"_

_Jumping up and down crying happy tears on the phone, a positive pregnancy test discarded on the counter._

_Exhausted and exhilarated, laying in a hospital bed surrounded by doctors and nurses, Wendell crying silent tears as she held a newborn baby._

_Weeping tears of joy, hugging a little girl with brown bushy hair and watching her bound off to Kindergarten._

_Running through the halls of a hospital. Wendell was lying in a hospital bed and the doctors were saying something about an appendix._

_Waving goodbye to a slightly older girl as she waved out of a scarlet train beaming at them._

_Receiving letters about the girl. There'd been an incident with a snake. But she was okay and had woken up from the sort of coma she'd been in._

_Watching a young teenage girl with the same bushy brown hair twirl around in a periwinkle dress._

_Wendell and the girl hanging ornaments on a Christmas tree._

_Covering the girl in a blanket on the couch and stroking her hair._

Even though time moved in slow motion, she barely had a half a second to take in all of the memories and gasp a single word before the truck crashed into them from the side.

"Hermione!"

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Sorry, not sorry........


	16. The Keep House Elves Enslaved Society

**Monday, November 30**

**Draco**

* * *

Herbology was annoying as usual. It was his least favorite subject. But it was a necessary evil since he'd decided to pursue Potions as a career.

They were helping Professor Sprout with fully matured mandrakes which required magically enhanced ear protection. When they had last encountered mandrakes, their cries weren't fatal (they just caused loss of consciousness) so they had been able to use regular earmuffs and just talk loudly over the cries. But today they were each essentially deaf. Most of the pairs were gesticulating wildly to make up for being unable to speak to each other. He and Hermione had planned out their approach on paper before starting so they were once again moving efficiently through the task.

Though he knew she'd never say it, he knew Hermione didn't like Herbology either. Certainly, she understood the value it held, but he suspected her undecided career path would likely never require hands-on Herbology skills.

He had come to somewhat enjoy her conversation during these classes. Herbology was always a double period so he dreaded the two hours ahead of them in silence. They had generally avoided any personal topics but he found he enjoyed talking with her about their classes and various other scholarly pursuits. He found that she had a subtly sarcastic and impatient sense of humor. He had also secretly jotted down several muggle authors she had mentioned in passing. He'd already started one and found it quite enjoyable.

After the initial shock of them working together had worn off, most of the class had warmed up to him (at least in this setting). Though he'd never admit it, it was nice to not be ignored. In this little bubble of life, he was almost 100% accepted, by Granger's side (or under her protection).

Though it would be a boring period, he was glad they wouldn't be talking today. Mandrakes were a touchy subject. He'd noticed her brow furrow when Professor Sprout told them what they'd be working on. Obviously, Mandrakes reminded her of Second Year when she had been petrified by a Basilisk. He'd been particularly prattish that year, spouting lots of nonsense about muggleborns and how they deserved to be ousted from the school (or worse). He internally grimaced at the thought. At 12 he'd really been too young to understand what it really meant to wish someone dead. Over the past two years he'd had plenty of experience with that. There were several people he now wished dead – some of them already dead, some of them not. And none of his hatred had anything to do with blood status. If he was honest, he would admit that he didn't really ever believe much of that nonsense anyway. He and most of the other Slytherins were mostly just trying to please and impress their parents (most of whom did believe in it).

But nevertheless, he was glad to avoid a conversation with Granger about the first time he'd called her a mudblood, even though he knew he really should apologize for that. Well that and... everything...

He didn't realize how long he'd been lost in thought until Granger had elbowed him and motioned over to the remaining Mandrakes that needed tending.

That was the only downside to working more efficiently. You ended up doing more work than the other groups that simply bumbled through (either on purpose or by incompetence). But he'd rather have asked her about what it was like to be petrified than suggest they slow down so that they could do less work. They went over to get another Mandrake planter when they saw Professor McGonagall enter the greenhouse. She looked very grave indeed. She sought out Professor Sprout and motioned outside. A few moments Professor Sprout came over to their table and motioned for them to pack up their things and come with her.

He and Granger looked at each other. _What could this be about?_

Once the greenhouse door was firmly shut they took off their ear protection and saw Professor McGonagall pacing and waiting for them.

Draco's ears rang from the sudden return of sound to his ears.

He smiled to himself at the large piece of hair that had gotten caught in the earmuffs stuck up oddly from Granger's head.

"Yes, Professor?" Granger asked.

"I'd like you both to accompany me to my office. There is a matter I need to discuss with you."

If she hadn't looked so serious he would have laughed at the look of horror on Granger's face. McGonagall seemed to see it too.

"Oh, don't worry, you're not in trouble. There is someone here who has requested to meet with you."

"Both of us?" Draco asked.

He thought he saw McGonagall's eyes narrow slightly before nodding and asking them to follow her.

"Is this about Ron?" Granger asked.

"No. Both Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter are fine. In fact Mr. Potter will be back this evening."

Draco searched his memory and realized that neither of them had been in Herbology this morning. Curious, he thought.

They wound their way through the castle. Granger was wringing her hands. He had no idea what this was about but he was sure he hadn't done anything to get him in trouble this year.

When they entered her office she motioned for them to sit in two chairs. McGonagall waved her wand, doing some enchantments on her fireplace. Likely temporarily taking down some wards so that the Floo could be used.

He looked around the office. He'd never spent much time in the Head's office. He looked at the portraits hanging around the office. He noticed that the portrait of Dumbledore was studying him. He turned away in discomfort.

Finally the Floo roared to life and an older man in strange light blue robes stepped out.

He narrowed his eyes. He'd seen those type of robes before...

Then Draco's eye caught the logo on the pocket of the robes. It looked vaguely familiar.

The man shook hands with McGonagall and Draco caught his accent.

_Oh no no no no no._

He thought he knew who this man was and he wanted to leave right fucking now.

Hermione had tensed at the sound of his accent. He suspected she knew who he was as well.

"Hermione," McGonagall spoke softly, "this is Healer Marcos. He is here from Tavish's Magical Hospital in Brisbane. He is here with news of your parents."

Draco heard a soft intake of breath next to him. He wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Healer Marcos, this is Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy." She motioned to them and the healer shook their hands.

He was torn between the desire to remind Granger to breath and the desire to run from the room. This was not how the arrangement was supposed to be...

He cleared his throat and made to get up, "I'll just... I'll just wait outside."

"Mr. Malfoy, I think it would be beneficial for you to stay and hear the update, given your recent involvement." Draco closed his eyes. He could feel Granger's stare on him. "That is, if Ms. Granger is comfortable with it."

He heard her turn in her seat back to Marcos. He chanced a look at her.

Unfortunately she was still staring at him.

"What is he talking about?" Granger hissed at him. She looked fearful and incensed.

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish several times.

She grew impatient and turned back to Marcos.

"Are my parents okay? What's happened?"

Marcos and McGonagall were looking between the two of them.

"I apologize, I just assumed... given Mr. Malfoy's letter a few weeks ago that this was an arrangement you were privy to, Ms. Granger," Marcos said apologetically.

"And when Healer Marcos told me of your involvement I just assumed Ms. Granger was aware. I know that you have become friendly this year," McGonagall said breathlessly.

"Never mind that now," Granger said waving her hand impatiently. " _Please_ say what you've come to tell me."

"Would you like Mr. Malfoy to wait outside Hermione?" McGonagall asked.

_Yes. Please._

"No," she shot him a glare that reminded him of his mother. He sat back down reluctantly and sank as low in the chair as he could while still managing some semblance of proper etiquette. " _Mr. Malfoy_ will not leave my sight until he has the opportunity to fully explain why he is corresponding with the mind healer working to restore my parent's memories."

_Oh fuck me._

"Now, for the love of god, someone PLEASE tell me what is going on with my parents." She said the last part desperately.

"Very well then," Marcos said. He sat down across from them. "As you know, we haven't had much success yet lifting the memory charm. In these cases we typically start by identifying what the patient does and does not remember. Afterwards, we use emotional stimuli to gauge how deeply the memories have been buried. There is really no such thing as complete memory erase. Memories always remain in a person's mind, but memory charms sever the brains ability to recall them. For better or for worse, you did a very thorough job with the memory charm and the memories of your life were buried very deeply. We haven't been able to stimulate their subconscious with photos or mention of you."

"Right," Granger said impatiently. "That's why I plan to come to Australia over the summer and spend time working with them and the healers."

"Yes, well there's been a development."

He heard Granger exhale a breath he didn't know how long she'd been holding.

"What? Do they remember?"

"Somewhat. It's a very delicate situation. On Saturday your parents were involved in an automobile accident."

"Are they okay?"

Draco looked over at Granger. Her eyes were wide and glassy. He had a strange urge to put his hand on her shoulder.

"Yes, they are fine physically. They both sustained a few broken bones. Your mother had to have surgery and your father suffered a serious concussion but they will both make a full recovery. In fact, they are already feeling much better now that they are in our facility."

Draco saw her relax in her chair. He released a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"So they were treated in a muggle hospital?"

"Yes. But as you know, the magical world monitors muggle hospital records in case a witch or a wizard is admitted. As your parents were under our care already we were able to identify them and transport them to Tavish's for further treatment and observation."

"Well what does this have to do with their memories?"

"It appears that the accident has triggered some memories in your mother. When she woke up in the muggle hospital she upset your father by calling him by his true name and asking about their daughter. Obviously this was distressing to him as he doesn't remember anything."

"Oh dear..." Granger began wringing her hands again.

"Yes, she had to be sedated and was under psychiatric care when we found them. Her memories are very confusing for her. She has not fully recovered her memories but she has what appears to be flashes of significant events. It's very distressing for her so we've kept her somewhat sedated since then. We've told your father that it's a reaction to the anesthesia. They are both in a special ward where they think they are being treated in a muggle hospital."

It was very quiet for several moments.

"So, what next?" Granger asked, steeling herself.

"Well we'd like you to come back to Brisbane and try interacting with her in a controlled setting. The fact that she has recalled the memories on her own without magical stimulus is very promising and we think that we might be able to make some more breakthroughs with you there in person."

"Of course," she said breathlessly. "Yes, I want to come."

"I know you are in the middle of your school year but the Headmistress has said they'll be able to make some accommodations for you so that you may take a few weeks off."

"Great," she whispered. It seemed like her mind was so far off. Draco marveled that she didn't seem to be in the slightest bit concerned about school. The Granger he knew would be torn in knots about missing two weeks or more of school. But, if it has been his mother, he wouldn't have blinked either.

"So, can we go now?" She looked at Marcos.

"Unfortunately it will have to wait until this evening. Kingsley is fast-tracking an international travel license for you. Once the details have been sorted you'll be able travel there right away."

"Oh," Granger said, disappointed.

"I also hoped you'd be willing to wait until this evening when Mr. Potter returns. He has offered to accompany you."

"Harry knows?"

"Yes," McGonagall looked sheepish. "Please forgive me for telling him on your behalf. I was concerned about your emotional well-being. When I told him, he made arrangements to come back right away and insisted he be allowed to travel with you."

"But what about his schooling?"

"As you know, Mr. Potter does not plan to return to Hogwarts after the winter break."

Draco looked up at this surprising news.

Granger nodded sadly.

"I've told him he's welcome here the rest of the semester as long as he follows through with his responsibilities and does not cause any disruptions. Since he will not be sitting for his NEWTs, attendance doesn't matter as much."

"Oh, well, okay then. I'll speak to him tonight."

Draco shifted slightly in his chair which he immediately regretted. It made a loud squeak and Granger whipped around to stare at him. It was as if she'd completely forgotten he was there. But once she remembered she rounded on him with a fury he'd never before seen.

"And what does Malfoy have to do with this?" She spat his name like a bad taste in her mouth. He cringed internally.

"Mr. Malfoy has made a very generous contribution to the mind department at Tavish's," said Marcos.

Draco sighed slightly. _Okay. And just fucking stop there. I can explain that._

"And has pre-paid for some of their medical bills."

_Ah fuck you too, Healer Marcos._

Granger gaped at him. She narrowed her eyes. "How generous?"

"Fairly generous..." Draco said, avoiding her eyes, thinking of the number of zeroes he'd added to the transfer request.

"Oh I'd say it's more than 'fairly!'" Marcos laughed. "We're renaming the mind wing after him and he's covered your parents' expenses for the next year all while doubling their healers' hours."

Draco wanted to fall into a hole and die.

Granger studied him carefully. "And what," she hissed, "made you think that it was appropriate to meddle in my parents' private medical affairs without my knowledge?"

It was exactly as he'd suspected. He had never wanted her to find out. He'd just wanted to help.

"Er... I don't know. I just wanted to help."

"WHY?" He could understand that she'd be uncomfortable that he had gone behind her back but he had expected her to be at least a little grateful...

"I just... did."

"Oh really? _You just did?_ Well, excuse me if I find that hard to believe," she scoffed.

"Well you can believe it or not, but I did. It just seemed like the right thing to do," he said stubbornly.

"And the opportunity to bring some good publicity to your family's name had nothing to do with it, I'm sure."

"I never wanted that! I specifically asked that the donation be treated as anonymous. It's not my fault they wanted to meddle-"

"OH THAT'S RICH!" she shouted. " _You're_ upset that _they_ meddled in something _you_ considered _private_?" Her words were practically dripping with sarcasm.

He registered McGonagall trying to calm the situation. He started to feel his temper rising. He didn't even know why. He knew she had a reason to be upset and he should just be calm and let her vent. But… he just couldn't. He just couldn't help himself. "Well, it's already done, so just forget about it."

"NO! How much? Tell me. I insist on reimbursing you."

"No."

She stood up, towering over him. "Tell. Me. I don't want your pity."

 _Okay, Granger._ He stood up too, now towering over her. "It's not pity. You couldn't afford it anyway so I figured you'd be thankful," he scoffed.

"Well that's _not_ for you to decide! I will reimburse you for this if it's the last thing I do!"

"Honestly Granger," he drawled, "It's nothing. We have more money than anyone like you could dare to dream about and I could never spend it all if I tried. It's quite boring not having a group of cronies to push around and a Quidditch team to captain, you know. Besides, I have to spend a percentage of my trust each year on 'charitable activities', anyway, so consider this a public service."

He knew he was pushing her too far. He didn't know what had come over him. He hadn't planned on getting into a screaming match with her. But she just had a way of getting under his skin.

"I don't want your _charity_ either." She stepped in closer, her eyes alight with fire.

"Well, too bad, Granger. This might come as a surprise, but you're not the boss of me." He crossed his arms and smirked at her.

She hissed and drew her wand, pointing it at his chest.

McGonagall shrieked and Marcos rushed towards them.

All of a sudden the floo activated again and Potter stumbled out of the fireplace, assessed the situation, and chuckled to himself, "So... what did I miss?"

"Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall said, surprised. "I thought you weren't coming back until this evening."

"I decided to come back early. Good thing I did, too." He turned to face Hermione, "How are you?" he asked.

She threw herself at Harry and hugged him tightly.

"So, what's going on?" he asked her. "What's Malfoy done?"

_Oh screw you, Potter. Why couldn't she have been the one to start it this time? I mean, okay, she didn't. But still._

"Well apparently," she shot Malfoy a murderous glare. "After he found out about my parents, he took it upon himself to cover the medical expenses for my parents for the next year."

"And don't forget the contribution to the department!" Marcos added jovially, as though this was all a big joke and he wasn't about to get murdered in the Headmistress' office by The Brightest Witch of Our Age.

Hermione and Malfoy both glared at Marcos.

"Oh," Harry looked between her and Malfoy. "Well, I suppose that was very generous."

"NO!" She roared. "It was an egregious violation of my privacy!"

Harry stepped back from her, his eyes darting to her wand which was emitting sparks.

"Okay, yes, that too."

"I've already informed him that I won't be taking his money and that I'll be paying him back," she told Harry matter-of-factly.

"Yes, and I've already told her she probably can't afford it – even if she works for the rest of her life-," Malfoy drawled from behind her.

She wheeled back on Malfoy. "Well then _Harry_ will lend me the money and I'll spend the rest of my life paying _him_ back! He has more money than he knows what to do with anyway. It's not like he's going to spend it on education or charity or anything."

Draco was pleased to find out that she was just as high and mighty over her friends as she was everyone else.

"Hey!" Harry protested.

She shot him a glare over her shoulder as if to say "after everything, you'd deny me this?"

"Well, I mean of course, what's mine is yours, Hermione. Anything you ever need. Though-"

"Granger," Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Even if you do pay me back I won't keep it. I'll just donate it to some cause you find offensive and put the donation in your name."

Draco wondered to himself if it would be worth the time and effort to form an anti-House Elf freedom campaign just for this sole purpose…

She stepped towards him and Harry pulled her back.

"Hermione..."

"When I am finished with you, you will wish that Lord Voldemort himself would take my place!" she hissed.

"HERMIONE!"

 _This is almost fun now,_ Draco thought. For seven years he'd watched her desperately hold Scarhead and Weasel back when their tempers raged out of control. It was amusing to watch the dynamic get reversed.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? FINE!" Malfoy stepped closer to her, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Healer Marcos, it was a pleasure to meet you. After further consideration, you may name the mind wing after me after all. My mother and I will be _just thrilled_ to attend the gala where the dedication will be made. I had just wanted to do a good deed anonymously and help out a cause I happen to be interested in, But seeing as it irritates this swot so much I am happy to oblige." He bowed dramatically at the Healer and smirked at her.

She ripped her wand arm out of Harry's grasp and sent a curse at him which he lazily blocked.

"MISS GRANGER!" Professor McGonagall yelled and she was brought back to her senses. "Please control yourself. I understand you are under considerable emotional distress but there is no reason for raised voices and violence."

"Yes, of course, Professor. I apologize that I lost my temper."

"That's quite alright dear. No harm done, fortunately."

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said, rounding on him. He gulped. While he was happy to antagonize the Golden Trio all day, he did not fancy getting on McGonagall's bad side. "Please do not antagonize Ms. Granger and use foul language. This is an incredibly difficult time for her and it is not for you to decide how she should feel about your... actions."

"Yes, Professor." Hermione beamed smugly as Draco tried not to look guilty.

"Perhaps it's time for you to take your leave. I believe lunch will be starting in a few moments."

"Yes, Professor. Thank you." He turned to exit the office without looking at her again.

On the way out, he caught the eye of Dumbledor's portrait. The headmaster raised an eyebrow at him and shook his head, looking like he knew the answer to all of life's greatest mysteries. He rolled his eyes at it and stormed out.

_Whatever, old man. You don't know anything._

* * *

**Hermione**

Hermione seethed silently. _What kind of self-centered person would violate a person's privacy like that and then claim it's because they wanted to do the right thing? Like he has a functional moral compass anyway. What a horrid git. I never should have given him the time of day. I thought he'd be better now that he's not a bigoted spoiled daddy's boy, but clearly his ego still needs a few gut punches. It's too bad he's not playing Quidditch this season. Maybe I'd actually watch to see the look on his stupid smug little face when Harry catches the Snitch away from him. Always strutting around, getting what he wants and acting like a god. Slimy asshole. It was like he was having fun! Is my terror amusing to you, you shithead? Well, I've got news for you… just because everyone else is still slightly scared of you, doesn't mean I am! I should… Oh he will rue the day…_

After a few moments, Professor McGonagall broke the silence, "Healer Marcos, I'm sure you need to return to the hospital. Miss Granger, do you have any more questions for him for the time being?"

"No, thank you, Healer Marcos."

"Very well. My office took the liberty of making you a reservation at an Inn near the hospital. Here is your visitor badge which will allow you access and directions. Please come to my office tomorrow at 3 PM and we will discuss how to move forward."

"I can't come earlier?" The idea of waiting almost two days was torture.

"I'd prefer you didn't. The time difference is extreme. That will be very early in the morning your time and it's important that you are fully rested. It will be a very emotionally draining experience for you, I expect. The Headmistress will be sending you with some Dreamless Sleep Potion to take as soon as you get to your room. I am sure that your companion will help ensure you are well cared for."

She felt Harry swell with pride beside her. She rolled her eyes. Harry was the poster child for not taking care of himself and still charging forward blindly.

"Fine. I understand."

Harry winked at her, "Doctor's orders. It was a pleasure to meet you. I will see you tomorrow."

"Well I'll see you then, I suppose."

Healer Marcos nodded and disappeared through the floo.

Professor McGonagall told them what time to come back for their portkey and sent them away to pack.

. . . . . . . . . .

"So, how is Ron?" Hermione asked once they'd reached the entrance hall. Harry was already packed and Hermione was a very light packer so she wouldn't need long to get her stuff together (plus, transfiguration and cleaning charms helped).

"Oh, fine. Worried, but George is doing a lot better."

"Good. He's strong."

"Yes, I think the shock of being back there for the first time was too much."

"He really shouldn't have gone by himself," she said sadly.

"No, he shouldn't've," he said looking pointedly at her. "But... people often try to do things all on their own when it's a bad idea..."

"Harry James Potter are you trying to say something?"

He just kicked the dirt they were walking on.

"Because what Malfoy did... how he behaved..."

"I'm not defending him, Hermione. Obviously he's an ass and I don't forgive him for baiting you. But I don't think his original intention was malicious."

She knew this. She'd known it from the beginning. Now that she'd calmed down, she was more upset about his general assumption that her privacy didn't matter. If it had been Harry that had done it, she would have cried and thanked him. It was just the principle of the matter. He should have asked her permission. Asked if she wanted help. And he shouldn't have been so goddamn smug about it.

"Yeah, I know. I just..."

"Felt violated?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Look, just because he apologized to me doesn't mean that I like him now. He'll always be the amazing bouncing ferret to me." He nudged her in the ribs with his elbow.

She laughed weakly and he took her arm and led her down to see Hagrid.

. . . . .

"How long will you be gone?" Ginny asked glumly.

"Probably two weeks. I don't think I want to be gone from school any longer. It will be hard enough to stay caught up while we're away," Hermione said cutting up her chicken.

"Well, and you know, you might miss your other friends once the allure of 'The Chosen One' has worn off," Ginny teased.

"Of course, Ginny, we'll miss you terribly." Hermione reached across the table and grabbed her hand.

"Well, you'll have to write. Once Ron comes back it'll be unbearable. I haven't spent this much time with hin ages. And he'll be all pee pee hearted that his girlfriend and best friend are off on an adventure without him."

"Eh, he'll survive. He'll get to be the famous one for once." Harry winked and they all laughed.

"Plus, you can keep an eye on him. I'm sure he's struggling after helping with George and everything. Regardless of how he told Harry he's doing." They both shot Harry an annoyed look. He just shrugged and stuffed pasta into his mouth.

_Almost as bad as Ron._

They finished dinner and spent some time up in the common room. Ginny helped Hermione pack much to her dismay. Ginny kept criticizing all of her outfits and asking if she had any "sexier" underwear.

"Ginny, I will be spending all of my time in a hospital or with my best friend who is practically my brother. That and my... boyfriend... will be here." Ginny raised an eyebrow at her. "So I don't need anything sexy." Ginny's eyebrow disappeared into her hair. "Well, what I mean... It's not like I need them here either."

Ginny laughed. "It's not about who _sees_ them. It's about how they make you _feel_."

"Well my regular underwear will do just fine I think."

"Ugh. Fine. But next Hogsmeade weekend, we are rectifying this," she waved a pair of Hermione's cotton underwear in the air and made a face, "situation."

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued packing.

"So... how are things going with you and Ron anyway?"

Hermione made herself busy searching for something at the bottom of her trunk.

"So, what do you think of the spring formal themes?"

Ginny threw a shirt at her. "Oh, no you don't. You don't get to pretend you didn't hear me. Tell me."

"Ugh, Ginny, it's weird. You're his sister," she said, making a face.

"Yeah, well, I try to forget about that, so it's a moot point. Plus, I'm your best friend. That's more important."

Hermione grumbled.

"Out with it. You've given me no juice. You both just tell me 'it's going fine.' I. Want. Details."

Hermione looked pleadingly at Ginny who was laying on her stomach on Hermione's bed, filing her nails.

"Ugh. Okay fine. But I don't know what to tell you. It _is_ going fine. It's nice. I don't have any complaints."

Ginny glared at her. "Fine? Nice? No complaints? _That's_ how you're going to describe your relationship with the guy you've been in love with for like, forever?" she scoffed, summoning a bottle of nail polish from her room.

"What am I supposed to say, Ginny?! It's the truth! It's not like I have a bunch of experience to compare it to!"

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! I just have never really dated anyone before. It hasn't been that long. We're… taking it slow. I didn't want to overwhelm either of us."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "What about Krum?"

"Viktor? That _barely_ counted. Other than the Yule Ball and studying, we didn't hang out or anything. I was a nervous wreck the whole time!"

"Nervous, like he creeped you out? He was so much older…" Ginny added thoughtfully.

"Oh, geeze, Ginny. No. You sound like your mother." She ducked as a nail file soared for her head. "Seriously, we only kissed a handful of times. I was nervous because I never knew how to act around him. I was always afraid of making a fool out of myself."

"And Ron doesn't make you nervous?" Ginny asked.

"Ginny, look. I am perfectly happy with our relationship. We both have a lot of baggage to sift through. And it's been a long time coming. I don't want there to be too much pressure on us. Neither of us really know what we want out of life and I'm happy that we're just… doing what we're doing. It's nice and comforting. Just because you and Harry are the two most impulsive people to ever walk this earth, doesn't mean everyone else is doomed if they don't go from zero to a million in no time flat. Believe me, if I have concerns or something, you'll be the first to know."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at her but accepted defeat. "Okay, fine."

. . . . .

Twenty minutes later, they were heading downstairs to meet Harry and head up to McGonagall's.

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently while Harry and Ginny exchanged a very personal display of public goodbyes.

They exited the portrait hole to find an irate Fat Lady shouting at Malfoy towering over a scared looking Second Year Gryffindor.

"—now listen up you little brat. For the last time, I'm not up to anything. I just need to talk to her. I _know_ she's in there. So you just hop through that stupid portrait hole and tell Granger to get her ass down—" He stopped as they climbed out.

"Malfoy?" she asked.

"Oh great. You're here. No need for you anymore. Scurry along now," he barked.

"Malfoy! Apologize to Matthew! You have no right to yell at him and belittle him."

He crossed his arms stubbornly and she stared him down.

"Ugh. Okay fine. I'm sorry. _Thank you_ for your assistance." He sent Hermione a look that said "we good here?"

She rolled her eyes and pushed Matthew towards the Fat Lady who was staring daggers at Malfoy.

"So… was there a reason you're terrorizing the Gryffindor underclassmen, Malfoy?"

Malfoy sighed grumpily and mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"Theo said I had to come apologize." He gestured down the hall to where Theo Nott was sitting on a bench reading a book. He saluted them without looking up.

"I'll… uh… just go stand over here," Harry said.

Hermione crossed her arms and stared at him. "WELL?"

"I'm sorry that you thought I was rude earlier."

She blinked at him.

"And I'm sorry that I antagonized you. I know how wound up you are, and you don't need any more stress."

Theo cleared his throat from his bench.

Malfoy groaned. "Okay fine. I would also like to say that I apologize for going behind your back…" He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck. She said nothing. "Ugh. You're gonna make me say it? You know what I'm getting at. Okay _fine_. When I found out about your parents, I didn't want you to think that I was threatening you. I swear I wasn't. It was just a freak coincidence. So, I forced Luna tell me what happened and I just… It seemed like something I could actually help fix. Everything is so fucked up and I've done so much shit and so has my family… There's nothing I can do. But… the one thing I can do is throw money at a problem. And I know you'd never have accepted it from. And I do actually find mind ailments very interesting and I think I'd like to eventually become a healer in that area, or at least work on healing potions, so I figured donating to the hospital as a whole would be a good way to get my foot in the door. But, I get it. You don't want my help. And if you really don't want the financial assistance, you can pay me back, no matter how long it takes, and I swear I won't use it to form a 'Keep House Elves Enslaved' society or anything. You'll never hear me mention it again. So, I guess, sorry, Granger."

She stared at him, stunned. _Is he for fucking real?_

"Malfoy, that was quite possibly the worst apology I've ever heard."

"Well, what do you want from me, woman?!" he said exasperatedly, flailing his arms around in annoyance.

She gritted her teeth. _It's like dealing with a child._ "Oh my god, fine. Apology accepted."

Truthfully, she didn't know if she actually forgave him yet. But she was fairly sure that she would eventually, once she calmed down, especially when she made him give her a real apology.

"Great."

"Why didn't you just ask me?" she asked after a minute.

"I already said – because you wouldn't have—"

"No, why wouldn't you just ask me what happened to my parents. You don't have to go terrorizing Luna."

"Oh. Well I figured you wouldn't tell me either."

"And how did you find out I thought it was about my parents anyway?"

"Uh, Potter hinted it at me after he almost broke my jaw that day after Charms."

Hermione rounded on Harry who was pretending to be very interested in a particularly boring landscape painting of a potato field.

"Harry! You promised me you'd leave it alone."

He shrugged.

"Honestly, Granger. When has Potter ever left anything alone in his life. I'm fairly certain that waiting a beat might actually kill him," Malfoy muttered.

She sent him a scathing look. "So, are we done here? I have a portkey to catch."

"Uh, yeah."

"Great."

"Uh, good luck. I mean, with your mother."

"Thanks."

She headed towards Harry.

* * *

**Harry**

Harry retreated towards the bench where Nott was sitting as quickly as possible to avoid the uncomfortable tension.

He leaned against the wall, considering the strange turn in which his life had taken over the past few days. "Jetsetting," he recalled one of Aunt Petunia's magazines calling it.

He saw Nott glance up in his direction and nod.

"Nott," he said in greeting.

Nott sighed heavily before turning a page and saying in a lazy voice, "You know, I think we should cease with all the last name BS. We've all known each other for almost a decade and seen each other in the most horrific and compromising positions. Maybe it'd be better for unity if we just used our given names."

Harry stared at him. He cleared his throat. "Uh, well, I guess, good evening… Theo."

"Same to you, Harry," he replied, flipping another page.

Harry glanced nervously over at Hermione and Malfoy – Draco? It felt weird to say it. Maybe he'd work up to that one…

Malfoy was flailing his arms around in annoyance and Hermione was standing with a hostile posture rolling her eyes.

Nott – Theo – glanced over with a bored expression and said "Merlin, could they be any more obtuse if they tried?"

"Huh?" Harry said stupidly.

Theo raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't see it?"

"See what?"

Theo narrowed his eyes at Harry. "The repressed sexual tension over there is so strong it's getting _me_ all hot and bothered." He turned back to his book, leaving Harry to dwell on this upsetting and impossible concept.

He heard Malfoy mention that he'd punched him and pretended to be interested in the stupid potato painting behind him. He kept up the charade until he heard Hermione shuffling up behind him.

"So, you guys all set?" Nott asked in an uninterested tone.

"Uh, yeah. I suppose I have you to thank for that word vomit that was supposed to be an apology?"

Theo snorted with laughter, closed his book, and stood up. "Go easy on him, Hermione. He's a work in progress."


	17. Tavish's Magical Hospital

**Author's Note: Sorry, it's a short chapter, we're in the process of buying a house and that's taken almost all of my time and mental capital. Also, I wrote most of this on my phone, so forgive any extra errors. Thanks to everyone who's left a note. I really enjoy reading them :) And thanks to everyone who's reading!**

* * *

**Chapter 17:** **Tavish's Magical Hospital**

* * *

**Tuesday, December 1**

**Ron**

"Alright, George. You sure you're ready for this?" Ron asked as they cleared the wards of the Burrow to Apparate.

"Yeah, I think so. Can't be worse than the last time, can it?" He winked and nudged Ron in the ribs.

"It's not funny!"

George rolled his eyes. "You know me. Always the flair for the dramatic."

"Seriously. No one would blame you if you wanted to keep staying at home."

George looked off into the distance and sighed. "I know. It's comfortable, but I think it's time. I don't think he'd want me to putter around feeling sorry for myself. Plus, I came up with some ideas for 'get well soon' gifts while I was laying in that blasted bed. I think it would actually be nice to do some tinkering again. I almost forgot what explosives smell like."

Ron looked at him. He wasn't really sure about any of this. George had practically refused to say anything of substance to anyone other than himself – a fact which thoroughly angered both their mother and Ginny particularly. But he said he wanted to finish what he'd started – moving back into the shop and restarting operations. Ron didn't really know if that was a good thing, but who was he to say anything? The rest of the family had been planning an intervention of sorts to make George talk about what happened and, Ron shuddered, "what he was feeling." But Ron had put his foot down. He was tired of everyone in this family always having an opinion on how to feel what they were feeling. So he'd shouted himself hoarse with Ginny and Percy until they all agreed to leave George alone and start treating him like a normal human being and not a fragile creature they'd break just by looking at him.

"All right let's go then. If I'm getting up at the crack of dawn, it'd better be worth it."

George chuckled and they apparated away.

Ron stared up at the shop. He'd only been here once, directly after the end of the war. The inside had been thoroughly ransacked, but the outside had been fairly well maintained. It seemed almost a year and half of vacancy had dulled the once bright colors of the paint and signage. It was a sad sight, indeed, but that's why they were here. George took a steadying breath and marched forward through the door, Ron following closely.

"George!"

Ron was knocked out of the way by a mass of dark curls. Angelina Johnson had run forward to embrace George. Ron was forcibly reminded of Hermione and the way in which she always hugged them as though she was shocked that they were alive. He supposed she had reason to. He realized he hadn't thought about her much in the past few days and felt guilty. True, he'd been a bit preoccupied. But he knew she was trying to sort out her parents. It had killed him not to go back with Harry, but he knew he needed to be here with George. He hoped she'd owl soon and let him know how it was going.

He hugged Angelina and shook hands with Lee Jordan. After exchanging somewhat awkward pleasantries, Angelina looked around the ransacked shop and exclaimed, "Well, shall we get this over with?"

They all got to work. George and Lee focused on repairing any damage to the building. Ron sorted merchandise. Angelina set to work repairing the décor.

It was an odd situation. They were all sad. There were more than a few tears shed as they went through the various rooms, cleaning and telling stories. Ron realized they'd never really done this. No one really talked about Fred. It was weird to hear his name. They never said it. Somehow, the whole family had decided that it would be too painful for George to hear his twin's name. Aside from a few anecdotes at the funeral, they didn't talk about him or tell stories. Ron suddenly felt like that had been a very stupid decision. It's not like it made them forget. He thought it would be too painful. But as he listened to Angelina and Lee reminisce about stories from their Hogwarts days, he realized he felt lighter. No one was tiptoeing around here. And it was oddly refreshing. It was clearly working for George too. A faint glow had returned to his eyes. Ron had to excuse himself and take a break in the cold December air. How could they have all messed this up so badly? In the process of trying to do everything right, they'd done it all wrong.

He brought back lunch and they spent the next few hours taking a break from hard labor and planning the grand re-opening later that month. They strategized and Lee mocked up some signs and advertisements. Angelina had a contact at the Prophet and she said she'd get them a good rate on ads and possibly even some press coverage for the event. They eventually gave up being productive and played games and ate sweets, before falling asleep in transfigured sleeping bags on the floor of the shop. When they woke up in the morning, Ron felt like, for the first time, everything actually felt marginally better than it had the day before.

* * *

**Hermione**

Hermione and Harry came to a clumsy landing in the Australia Ministry's office. That had been a very unpleasant portkey indeed. Thirty seconds didn't seem like much, but when you're being magically whooshed through time and space, it was not an ideal sensation. Harry looked very green. She transfigured a tissue into a damp towel for his forehead. He croaked a thank you and they moved out of the portkey booth and out into the hallway to make their way out of the Ministry. A magical transport person stamped their paperwork and welcomed them to Australia.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as they entered into the main area of the Ministry. It was a huge, open room with a glass ceiling. She squinted, looking up into the bright morning sun. It was very disorienting as it had been dark where they had just come from. But the grand lobby of the Ministry was breathtaking. It reminded her of a glittering greenhouse. There were plants hanging everywhere, many of them adorned with bright flowers. On the far side of the room where the floo network resided, there was a vast waterfall, magically charmed so as not to splash anyone with water. As they approached, she cold smell the water, but noticed that it did not spray her or make the air humid. She inhaled deeply and was taken back to a time from her childhood when her parents took her to New York when they attended a dental conference. They'd gone to Niagara Falls. She remembered her mother forcing her to wear a bright red plastic poncho and squeezing her way to the front of the boat. They were soaked at the end, but Hermione remembered it being one of the most spectacular things she'd ever seen. Her heart stung and she remembered why they were here.

Harry tugged her hand in the direction of a floo and they were swept towards the inn in which they were staying.

An hour later, they were checked into their room and Hermione was slowly losing a battle with Harry about the Dreamless Sleep Potion.

"C'mon, Hermione. You need to sleep. This is going to be really hard weekend. You need sleep."

"I'll sleep later," she snapped. "I need to brush up on some of my notes from my memory research.

He jangled the cup in front of her. "The best way to combat jetlag is to sleep right away, you know."

She glared at him. "Firstly, you've never actually experienced jetlag, so shut up. Secondly, that's incorrect. The best way is actually to wait to sleep until that time zone's nighttime. Thirdly, you're not my mother."

"Don't make me force you, Hermione. McGonagall gave me express orders."

She glared at him again. "Well she's not here. What are you going to do, stun me?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. I'm basically an auror now."

She snorted. "You're nothing of the sort."

He sank into the couch next to her and forced her chin in his direction. He set the cup down.

"Look, Hermione. I just finished forcing Ron to take care of himself. I can't be the responsible one for you too. This is going to be really, really hard. Who knows what's going to happen? You need to sleep. I promise, I'll wake you up in plenty of time so that you can get ready and go over your notes." He gave her a pleading look and she caved.

"Alright, fine. But I'm not taking all of it. I'll take half of what Madam Pomfrey prescribed."

Ne nodded and pulled her over to the bed and pointed to it. She lay down and drank the potion, immediately feeling its effects.

I'll go and get us food for when you wake up.

She barely heard the door close.

Hermione wrung her hands as they approached Healer Marcos' office.

"It'll be alright, Hermione," Harry said. She looked at him. He shrugged. "Well, maybe it won't. But I'll be here and I'll help you figure it out."

She nodded and nocked on the door. Marcos opened the door and invited them to sit down.

They exchanged pleasantries and Hermione felt like she was going to burst out of her skin. Sensing her anxiety, Harry initiated the conversation.

"So, are there any updates on her parents' conditions?"

Marcos unfolded his hands and glanced at his notes.

"There has been both good and bad progress…" and he launched into a much more detailed explanation of their circumstances and the steps from here.

When the healers had transferred them from the muggle hospital, her mother had been sedated as the doctors had thought she was suffering from brain trauma. By the time the sedation and painkillers had left her system, her body was very stressed. It had taken her almost 10 hours to regain consciousness. Then, she had become quite agitated upon realizing that Monica Wilkins was not her name while also not remembering what her real name was. It also seemed that whatever had

After she regained some lucidity and calmed down a bit they were able to convince her that she was in a special ward and was suffering some memory loss from her loss of consciousness and that that explained her confusion. Unfortunately they had to lie to her parents and tell them that both were unconscious for medical reasons and weren't able to have visitors. They couldn't risk her agitating him again with discrepancies. Her father, it seemed, was in excellent spirits and is doing quite well.

Hermione was relieved to hear this.

"Can I… can I see him?" Hermione asked.

Marcos considered this. "I think that would be alright. It might be best to disguise your appearance a bit. We don't know exactly how he'll respond. We've showed him pictures of you and there was no reaction but real life is different."

"Yes, yes of course."

For the first time since hearing about the accident Hermione felt hopeful. At the behest of the healers she had not come down to see them right away upon arrival. But now that she was here, mere rooms away she couldn't believe how much she'd missed them. While they were on the run she tried her best not to think about them much. Afterwards it seemed it had become a bit of a habit. Then when it was unclear whether they'd ever recover their memories she wouldn't allow herself too. If they didn't it would have been too painful. It was just easier to rep going as though she'd moved on. But the idea of seeing her father left her tingling with apprehension and excitement.

"And mum?"

"Well one of our kind healers has been working with her and gently pushing. She is still confused as to why she remembers two identities. But we've given her a careless draught so she isn't dwelling on it."

"Does she…?"

Marcos smiled at her kindly. "She still seems to remember you. She's doesn't know why she hasn't seen you in a year and a half and she is missing some significant periods of time but she knows that she loves you and misses you."

Hermione felt the ice around her heart chip just a little bit.

 _She knows that she loves me?_ Hermione had been bracing herself for over a year that she'd never hear those words from her again. She had considered that she might one day move down abs apply for a job at the dental clinic as a receptionist or something just to get close to them. Even if they never even knew who she was.

But what if it went horribly wrong? What if it broke her instead of healing her?

She steadied her breath

"I must warn you, it could all go backwards very quickly. We didn't know what will happen when she sees you. It could devolve. And she doesn't seem to remember magic. She remembers some things like you going to boarding school and that you've been in a series of accidents but not that you're a witch."

"Why not?"

"We think her mind is protecting her from the portions of her memories that are harder to understand."

Hermione nodded. She remembered when McGonagall had come to give her Hogwarts letter. Her parents had thought she was a crazy person and that she was dangerous.

"What do we do next?"

"Well, if you're ready we can do a short meeting. Well give her some light sedation and some other potions to control stress and increase happiness. We hope that of the initial meeting goes well we'll be able to wean off of those. But we want to make sure we have a good foundation. After this we can discuss how to proceed with the rest of a recovery plan."

She nodded

Marcos stood up and her heart started racing. "Okay?"

All of a sudden she wasn't ready. Yesterday she couldn't wait but now her feet felt like cement. She felt her pulse quicken.

"Ready?" Harry reached out and squeezed her hand. She looked at her and he gave her a confident nod. "You can do this."

She tried to believe him

—

They stood in between two doors. Marcos had blabbered the whole way about the history of the hospital. She'd mostly tuned him out. It registered that Harry had asked a number of questions

"Well, here we are. There will be a healer in the room just in case anything happens. I'll ask you to leave your wand. It's just policy."

She nodded. Marcos patted her shoulder and held open the door.

The room was quite nice. It was large and open with a window which she suspected was magical. There were machines that were beeping. They looked real. She supposed they'd have to put on a pretty good show for two people who actually went to medical school. She vaguely wondered how that worked before realizing it wasn't currently important.

Her mother was hooked up to the machines and reading a magazine. _People_ , it looked like.

"Heidi, if that's you bringing lunch I do hope you brought some of the jello I like. You know how-"

She stopped midstream. Her mother had looked up from her magazine. She tilted her head, her mouth opening slightly at the sight of Hermione.

She was so beautiful. Hermione had never truly appreciated it before. Her brown curly hair looked soft and perfect even after so many days in the hospital. Her friendly eyes started to melt the ice around her heart a little bit. The sun had been good to her, tanning her skin and earning her a few more freckles.

"Her-Hermione?" Her mother said cautiously.

Hermione flattened herself against the back of the door. Now that she'd actually seen her, she was affronted with a fear that had never occurred before. _What if they never forgive me?_

They stared at each other for a long moment. All of the practiced greetings Hermione had come up with had disappeared. She could do nothing but stand there.

"Hermione, dear, come here," her mother said, holding out a hand.

Hermione moved forward cautiously and sat herself on the chair next to the bed, staring at her feet.

Her mother wiped away a tear that she didn't even remember falling from her eyes and then grabbed her hand.

The second their skin made contact, the full weight of being reunited hit Hermione. It no longer mattered if she'd never be granted forgiveness. It no longer mattered if her mother forgot her in a minute. She knew she'd never trade this moment for anything, regardless of how much hurt came from it. The ice around her heart shattered completely and she threw herself forward onto the bed, hugging her mother and sobbing sloppily. She didn't know how long she cried for, but her mother stroked her hair and whispered words of comfort to her.

When she was finally able to settle herself she sat up. "Hi, mum."

"Hi, darling."

"You… you remember me?"

Her mother looked at her sadly. "Of course, dear. How could I forget?"

This just made Hermione start crying again. She sobbed incoherent apologies before realizing that she couldn't yet actually apologize as the topic of magic would have to wait.

Her mother tugged her onto the bed and Hermione clung to her like a small child.

"How… how are you feeling?"

"Oh, just fine, dear. These doctors are very good. I'm healing very quickly. I think I'll be out of here soon."

"Good. Good."

Hermione realized she didn't know what to say. She wanted to ask what she remembered but she didn't know if she was allowed. She didn't want to upset the delicate balance of the situation for her own selfish game.

As if on cue, Healer Marcos came in, knocking softly. "How are you both doing?"

Hermione mumbled.

"Wonderful, Dr. Marcos. I'm so glad Hermione was able to come see me."

"I'm glad as well. If you're feeling up to it, I'd like to ask you a few questions, Monica."

Her mother nodded.

He started questioning her. She remembered Hermione and that she was her daughter. She remembered much of her childhood, it seemed. She also remembered many of the important moments with her father. Most of her own childhood remained buried, it seemed. She appeared to accept the story that she'd been in an accident and that explained the memory loss. She seemed optimistic that it would all come back in time. She asked Hermione about her classes and about her plans for university. Hermione answered them as truthfully as she could while remaining generic. She even asked about Harry and Ron, even though she didn't remember their names. It was odd, Hermione had to pretend that she'd seen her recently even though it had been more than a year. She couldn't think of a good excuse as to why she wouldn't have seen them in that long, let alone have not caught up. There were a few times her mother gave her a curious and knowing stare, as though she knew she wasn't being given the whole truth but knew better than to push it. Her mother had always known her better than she knew herself.

After what seemed like a very short amount of time Healer Marcos said it was time for dinner and that they say goodbyes for the day. Hermione promised to come back the next day, before giving her mother one last hug. She made it out of the door before succumbing to sobs again. She felt Harry's arm around her and she turned into him, sobbing uncontrollably. She hadn't ever sobbed like this. Not at Dumbledore's funeral. Not at Fred's. Not after Ron left. It was a mix of relief and guilt and happiness that she didn't feel like she'd ever be able to make sense out of.


	18. Cinnamon Rolls

**Author's Note: Thank you all for your continued support! I've written plenty before, but this is my first fanfic. I'm not used to not having someone to look over my work. I'm in the process of getting a beta as well as some fan art. Stay tuned!**

* * *

**Chapter 18: Cinnamon Rolls**

* * *

**Wednesday, December 2**

**Hermione**

Hermione woke the next day with incurable puffy eyes. She suddenly wished she'd paid more attention to Parvati and Lavender when they discussed glamour spells. She did the best she could, with a healing and a cooling charm, but she still thought she looked like she'd been run over by a truck. She'd been plagued with unsettling dreams all night. The combination of lack of sleep and her searing post-cry headache made it difficult to drag herself to the shower. When she got out, Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed, playing some game on the hotel room's TV. Though they were staying in a wizarding hotel, she had found that Australia was much more willing to embrace muggle technology. They had muggle coffee makers, TVs, and phones for use if one wanted.

"Dammit!" Harry grumbled, tossing the controller away.

"You play video games?"

Harry appraised her. She thought he did a very good job of pretending to ignore the state of… well everything about her. "Not well. Dudley would never let me play his, but I'd sneak into his room and play when the Dursleys were out. I saw this one in the lobby." He held out "Donkey Kong" for her to see. "It was Dudley's favorite and I always wanted to try it. But it seems my reflexes are only good for catching Snitches." He sighed heavily. "Want a go?"

Hermione shook her head. If Harry's dexterity wasn't good enough for it, Hermione's surely wasn't.

"How are you this morning?

She shrugged. "Fine. Tired. What time is it anyway?"

Harry looked at his watch. "Uh, about eight. Which…" he screwed up his face in concentration, "I think is about 10 or 11 at night at home. The day before. I dunno. I don't get the time change. It messes with my head."

Hermione nodded. She did feel very out of sorts.

"Plus, this blasted weather. It's unnatural," he said, fanning himself.

"It's the Southern Hemisphere, Harry. It's summer here."

"I know. I don't like it. It's too hot. And it's humid too."

She hummed noncommittally.

"Well, I suppose you'd like to get back over to the hospital?"

She nodded.

"Let's get some food on the way over."

About an hour later, they were walking through the doors of the hospital, toting coffee and pastries.

In the coffee shop, there had been a sweet family sitting around a table, both parents reading the paper while a little girl colored. She remembered quiet mornings with her parents. Her father read the paper every morning cover to cover, leaving the comics out for Hermione. When she got a little older, she started reading other parts of the paper. He'd leave them neatly laid out for her and mark certain articles he thought she'd find interesting. He still always left out comics for her. They didn't have a particularly talkative relationship, but that was just fine. He was one of the only people she'd ever found that was actually comfortable in silence. Most people tried to fill it, but her dad never did and it was comfortable. That was one of the things she missed most while she was at Hogwarts and it was part of the reason she'd started subscribing to the Prophet. She read it every morning and imagined she was enjoying her orange juice and toast across the table from him.

She'd go see her father first and then she'd work with the healers on her mother. Healer Marcos said that he wanted to try to introduce some magical concepts and see how that went. She ignored the unease in her stomach at the though of eventually admitting to her mother what she'd done.

They met Healer Marcos in his office. He said that her mother had had a very restful night and that she had not suffered any regression since their conversation yesterday.

"Would you like to see your father today?" Healer Marcos asked Hermione.

"Yes!" she nearly shouted. "Yes, please, I mean."

"Great. One of the other healers is going in to take his vitals and bring him breakfast. If you'd like to hang back, that's fine. I'll ask you to refrain from engaging with him as much as possible. This is a bit of an experiment."

Hermione nodded and they made their way over and Hermione introduced herself to Healer Heidi Wheeler who she'd seen yesterday in mother's room. She was dressed like a nurse and Hermione suspected it was part of the ruse. She made a mental note to ask her how she knew so much about muggle medicine. Heidi transfigured Hermione's jeans and sweater into scrubs and lead her through the door.

Her dad was propped up on the pillow reading the paper, the already-read portions neatly laid out on the bed.

He greeted Heidi warmly and asked about her day so far. Heidi motioned to Hermione in the corner, saying that she was a trainee. Her dad smiled at her warmly but did not seem to recognize her. Hermione tried to stuff down the emotions that were threatening to erupt at the sight of him and the clear fact that he remembered nothing.

Regaining her emotional control, Hermione stood in the back quietly like she'd been instructed to. Her heart quaked with the desire to run over and hug him tightly. His sandy blonde hair was longer than he'd ever kept it and she noted it was lightly highlighted – from the sun, she suspected. He had always liked water sports. He greeted Heidi and asked about her mother. Heidi made polite conversation while taking his vitals. Seemingly finished with the paper he pulled a section out and set it aside on a pile on the nightstand.

"Saving Garfield for later I see?" Heidi quipped. "I know hospitals are boring, but I think we can find some more entertainment for you. No need to re-read the last week's funnies."

Hermione's eyes snapped to the pile and noted the uncharacteristically colorful pages. Her heart stopped.

He was saving out the comics.

Saving them for her.

And he had no idea.

She failed to stifle a sharp sob before bolting from the room.

* * *

**Harry**

Harry was beginning to regret not taking the leftovers of Hermione's sleep potion last night. He'd saved it for her, insisting she take it to stave off any nightmares she might have. She'd refused and it sat on the bedside table in between their two beds. But now that he sat on the bench on the pier watching the ocean, he wished that he had gotten more sleep. The warm afternoon sun and relaxing noise of the water lapping at the wood of the pier was making him very sleepy.

He'd needed a break from the hospital. He'd never admit it, but he was deathly bored. He couldn't be with Hermione today because she was in with Marcos and Mrs. Granger. It had gone poorly with her dad that morning. He wasn't sure what had happened, but she'd just cried into his shoulder about how sorry she was before Marcos dragged her away. At lunch it seemed like things were going better. She'd caught up with him in the cafeteria where he'd been studying the Auror training materials Kingsley had sent over. She'd plopped down next to him and stolen some of his fries. Apparently they'd been going over various memory exercises and were inching closer to the subject of magic. They'd chatted for a while over lunch and then she made him promise to get out of the hospital and go take a nap or something. She knew he was bored. She always knew what everyone needed.

He didn't really want to go back to the hotel. There wasn't anything to do there. Hermione had offered to let him borrow her books but that didn't really seem enticing either. So he had found himself wandering aimlessly. He'd caught sight of the ocean horizon over a hill and made his way down to the shore.

Now, sitting on a bench, nestled between tourists taking photos and people eating lunch, he realized he'd never actually been to the ocean before. Sure, he'd spent some time on the shore at Shell Cottage. And of course, Voldemort's cave had been at sea, but he didn't think either of those actually counted. The Dursleys had gone on beach holidays periodically, but he'd of course never been invited. Thinking about it now, he supposed it was something he might have missed had he not found out he was a wizard. He had always been so excited that the magical world actually existed that he'd never found him wanting for any of the things he'd missed out on during his childhood. But watching the waves ebb and hearing the gentle lapping against the pier, he suddenly wished he lived by the water. He'd been annoyed by the heat the entire time that they'd been here. Now that he could smell the mossy salty ocean scent and could feel the breeze through his t-shirt, he found he didn't mind it. So he sat and watched the clouds blow across the sky, finding shapes in them like a child at the park.

After a while, he decided to read Dudley's most recent letter which he'd found left for him when he returned to Hogwarts.

_Harry,_

_Thanks for finally writing back. I felt like a right idiot just pining away like that._

_Maybe this is too much… Want to meet up for a drink or lunch or something while you're home over Christmas?_

_Dudley_

Harry turned the letter over, but that was it. He supposed he couldn't blame Dudley. It's not like Harry had taken the opportunity to wax poetic in his response to the half-dozen letters Dudley had sent. He pulled out a blank sheet and began writing that he wouldn't be returning so it didn't have to be over the break. That's when it really hit him that he wouldn't be going back.

He set the pen and paper aside and leaned back on the bench. _I'm really leaving Hogwarts?_ He suddenly felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff without any support. Sure, he realized, he would have left at the end of the year anyway. But he hadn't even prepared himself. Hell, he hadn't even realized that the September journey was his last Hogwarts Express ride ever.

He felt a tightness in his throat. _Hogwarts is my home_. He'd told that to Dobby before Second Year and he still meant it. He'd done a decent amount of work on Grimmauld Place and it felt a lot nicer than it had before. But it wasn't home yet. Suddenly the idea of going off and starting off into what Hermione always called "the real world" seemed very daunting. Everything always felt better when he was safely housed in the ancient castle. _Maybe I should just accept McGonagall's offer to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts._ He hadn't told anyone she'd offered that. He was afraid that if he did, everyone else would convince him to stay. And he knew it wouldn't be that hard. But he knew it wasn't the choice he really wanted.

So he stared out at the clouds again, allowing himself to think over all his memories of the castle, good and bad. He sat there for a long time in silence, until the warm hued afternoon light turned the clouds pink and orange reminiscing until it was time to collect Hermione for dinner.

* * *

**Thursday, December 3**

**Hermione**

"So how are you feeling today Helen?" Healer Marcos asked her mother.

Hermione sat perched on a chair next to her mother's bed where she was sitting up for that morning's session.

Yesterday had gone well. After determining that there had been no regression, they slowly introduced the concept of magic. The healers had used some complicated potions to put her mind on a track so that she'd be more inclined to only follow the path Healer Marcos and Hermione led her down. That way, she wouldn't turn down a rabbit hole of the more serious subjects before accepting the good stuff about magic. That is what today was for. And Hermione had never felt more dread. That morning, walking over to the hospital, she felt like she was walking herself to the gallows. It had to be done. She had to tell the truth, no matter what happened.

"I'm well, thank you," her mother said with a polite smile

"And how are you feeling about what we went over yesterday? About the magical world and Hermione being a witch?" Healer Marcos said.

Her mother looked at her and smiled warmly. "Well, I will admit that it is all very hard to believe. I half expected it to all be a dream. But the demonstrations you gave are hard to ignore. And," she grabbed Hermione's hand, "I always knew my daughter was special, so I guess I'm not terribly surprised!"

Hermione's guilt increased.

"Wonderful," said Marcos. "Today, we're going to into some more details about the magical world that are pertinent to your recovery. They are not quite as pleasant as what we discussed yesterday."

Her mother nodded.

"Your memory loss is not a result of the car accident. It was a result of an incident magical in nature."

Her mother furrowed her brow. "Oh dear."

Healer Marcos cleared his throat and looked at Hermione. They had decided it would be best for her to tell the story. She had insisted but now was starting to regret it.

"Okay. Mum? Do you have any memories of me telling you about the wizarding war?"

Her mother shook her head looking even more concerned.

Hermione sighed. She tried to remember the way the history started in the book she'd picked up after visiting Diagon Alley for the first time. "Well, there are some magical people who believe that witches and wizards are superior to non-magic people. Whether it's just old prejudice passed down or just plain desire for power, I'm not sure. Probably a combination of both and it depends on the person. But anyway, about 50 years ago, a dark wizard called Voldemort began gaining power very quickly. He amassed a large group of followers and began a crusade to rid the magical world of witches and wizards from non-magical families and maybe even control the muggles – sorry, non-magical people in the future."

"You mean, like you?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. Like me. Anyway, Voldemort was defeated – well everyone thought he was – around the time I was about 1 year old. He actually met his demise trying to defeat my friend Harry's family. Harry survived due to some very ancient magic and it destroyed Voldemort's physical form for a while." She looked at her mother. Her nerves and dread were causing her to do a very poor job explaining the situation.

Her mother looked horrified. Hermione steadied her breath. This was probably the least horrifying part of the whole story.

"Do you have questions so far?" She asked.

"Oh, only about a thousand, but please continue. I'm sure I'll have more."

"Er, okay. It is a very long story and I am doing a very short summary. So, in my Fourth Year, Voldemort's followers managed to bring him back and he regained power. That was the start of the second wizarding war. The good side – our side – was the Order of the Phoenix. It was led by our old Headmaster Dumbledore and many others. They worked tirelessly to minimize his power and keep people safe. Unfortunately, Voldemort and his followers, the Death Eaters, managed to seize control of the wizarding government. Everyone who was from a non-magic family or supported the Order was forced into hiding. Including me and Harry."

"When was this?"

"He took over two summers ago."

"Almost two years? He's not still…" her mother looked horrified.

"No. No. We defeated him and his followers in May."

Her mother nodded and then stopped suddenly to look at her sharply. "What do you mean, 'we?'"

"I helped. I was part of the Order. I helped defeat him along with Harry and Ron."

" _You did what?"_ she hissed.

"I had to. Harry had a special mission. And we couldn't let him go about it on his own!"

"Of course you could! You were 17 years old!"

"Mum! You don't understand. The magic that saved Harry as a baby tied him to Voldemort. He was part of the puzzle. It had to be him. And we didn't know who to trust. Everyone was so scared. Dumbledore gave us a job and we had to hunt down these special weapons he'd made. And he's my best friend. I wasn't going to just let him go off on his own! And I'd have been imprisoned or even killed if I'd been caught. I had nowhere else to go!"

"You were – you _are_ far to young for any of that. You are not a soldier. You were a student. The adults should have handled it, not left three teenagers a secret mission," she spat.

Hermione sighed. This was harder than she thought. "It's so hard to explain. The adults were trying to handle it. They were working very hard to keep everyone safe and to fight too. But Dumbledore gave us a special piece of knowledge that ended up resulting in Voldemort's demise. He would have helped us, but he died right before Voldemort took power. It was just us. And we couldn't risk Voldemort knowing that we knew what we did. It would have ruined everything. We already barely made it out alive."

She snapped her mouth shut. She hadn't meant to say that. She saw her mother's mouth open to argue. "Mum, you have to trust me on this. I'll try to explain it all to you in more detail later. Please. Arguing about this will get us nowhere. I don't regret my actions, but I do think that we were too young for the responsibility. Can you accept that for now?"

For one glorious second, she thought her mother would let it slide. But she didn't. "You could have stayed with us! We would have protected you!" Her mother nearly shouted. "Is that how we lost our memories? Trying to protect you? I know we'd have done anything. We love you so much. We'd never let anything take you from us."

Hermione's heart nearly broke in half. She put her face in her hands and couldn't stop the tears from flowing. She felt Healer Marcos' hand pat her knee.

"Hermione?" she heard her mother's soft voice and felt her hand grab for hers. Hermione jerked away. "What's wrong? What happened sweetheart?"

She tried to steady her sobs. She looked at her mother who was looking at her with such love and concern. She took a moment to cement the memory into place, just in case… just in case she never got to see it again.

"No, mum. That's not how you lost your memories," she whispered.

"Well what happened then? What was the accident?"

"It wasn't an accident. Your memories were taken from you," Hermione croaked, choking back a dry sob.

"Who? Why? Who would hurt you like this, Hermione?"

She thought back to the misty morning when she'd left for the Burrow. She'd barely slept the night before. It was a Saturday, so both her parents were home in the morning. Her father always woke up early to eat a big breakfast and read the paper. Her mother was not as much of a morning person. Her breakfast usually included several cups of coffee and some kind of pastry, wolfed down in a mad dash on the way to the office. But on Saturdays, her father made a big breakfast. Sometimes it was a Full English. Sometimes waffles. This particular Saturday it was cinnamon rolls. She could smell them as she sat on the foot of the stairs listening to her parents chit chat and comment happily on the Saturday morning show. She knew she'd be late to meet Ron and that he'd be beside himself with worry. But she couldn't bring herself to stand up and do what she needed to. They were just so perfect like this. Exactly like every other Saturday morning she could remember. The same routine the day before she had headed off to Hogwarts for the first time. The same routine as when they'd take her to museums. The same routine as when they forced her to finish out the first and only season of softball she'd signed up for. The same routine that they'd have after she left. She heard the clock chime and knew she had to get on with it. She crept down the stairs and snuck a glance into the kitchen. They both had their backs turned to her at the sink. She counted to three and then wordlessly stunned them and put a cushion under where they fell. She performed the memory spells she had practiced and then added the Imperius that she'd decided she needed last night. She performed the spells with a cold indifference that she associated with doctors performing complicated procedures. When she was done she felt the numbness buzzing through her body. It felt like when your foot falls asleep and then it starts to come back awake. The tingling of the guilt and grief of her actions was threatening to break through the numbness. She levitated them into the chairs and cast a slow moving rennervate before disapparating straight from the house before she could completely fall apart.

"Hermione?" Her mom nudged her out of her memory. "Do you know who did this to us?"

Hermione closed her eyes and prayed for strength.

"Um," she choked out. "You have to understand that I had the best intentions. I only wanted to save you. There's nothing that I wouldn't do for you. And there's nothing that you or the police or anyone could have done to protect you. It was the only way. And I knew that if I left to go with Harry you would insist on staying with me. And I couldn't have that. I couldn't bear anything happening to you. And," her voice cracked. "I knew… I knew that if they found you they would use you against me and there would have been no way that I would be able to stay away if they were going to use you as leverage. I just…" She looked up hopelessly at her mother who had sat back in the bed and eyeing her with a blank expression.

"I don't understand, Hermione. What are you saying? You're not saying that…"

Hermione had intended to come right out with it and take all the blame. To not make excuses. To look her in the eye when she told her. But all of her Gryffindor courage went straight out the window. She buried her face in her hands and wailed, "It was me. I did this. I took your memories and had you change your names and move to Australia. I did it and I'm so sorry." She sobbed into her hands, not daring to look up.

When she'd cried herself out for the fifth time that weekend, she noted the silence in the room. She also noted that her mother had removed her hand from her. She knew that this didn't bode well.

She summoned all of the courage that she had and chanced a look up. Her mother was staring at her with her mouth open slightly, eyes blank, and hands limp at her sides.

They stared at each other for about a minute before she saw it. She saw the denial turn to confusion. The confusion turn to anger. The anger turn to hurt. The hurt turn to betrayal. The betrayal turn back into anger.

"Mum. I am so sorry. I thought I had no—"

Her mother put a hand up and Hermione stopped mid-thought.

"How could you?"

"I told you. I had no choice."

"How could that be? Why didn't you confide in us?"

"You wouldn't have believed me!" she was begging loudly now.

"Why not?"

"Because you wouldn't understand!"

"Why not?"

Hermione threw her hands up. "Because I never told you, okay? I downplayed it. You must remember getting owls about things in my first few years. First year we went down to get the Sorcerer's Stone from the reincarnated Lord Voldemort from becoming immortal. I was in the Hospital Wing for a night while they made sure the potion I drank wasn't going to kill me. They probably told you I had a bad reaction to a botched experimental potion. Second Year I got petrified by a great murderous snake. They probably told you I had an accident and I was unconscious for a few days. It was more than a month. Third year I nearly had a nervous breakdown because they let me, a 13 year old, use a time turner so I could go back in time and take extra classes. Later that year, we kind of got held hostage by a convinced murderer who turned out to be innocent and then we almost got killed by a werewolf. They probably told you I'd had an accident in Care of Magical Creatures or something. I don't know exactly what they said, but I guarantee it wasn't the truth or you never would have let me go back. So, starting in Fourth Year, after some of Voldemort's supporters tortured some muggles publicly at the World Cup, I knew shit was about to get worse. I knew Voldemort would come back. I knew that Harry would have to fight him. I knew that he'd need help. And even if he didn't, I would have wanted to. They thought I was stealing magic. That I'm not worthy. And they killed and tortured people because of it. And I'm smart enough and good enough to stop it. So, I begged Dumbledore to stop sending the messages. He didn't want to agree at first, but I'm the most responsible student that school has seen in forever. Finally, he agreed. So, no more messages. When Voldemort came back, I didn't tell you. I just told you what you needed to know. So, no. You wouldn't understand. You wouldn't understand that they tortured innocent children last year at school when the death eaters controlled the school. You wouldn't understand that they were rounding up muggle borns for registration and selling them off into slavery. You wouldn't understand what it's like to be on the run. You wouldn't understand what it's like to watch your classmates get murdered in your own school. You wouldn't understand what it's like to have to know your parents might never remember you because you would do anything to protect them. And you know that they might not ever forgive you, but that's okay. It breaks your heart but you know that they're safe and no one can hurt them."

She didn't realize when she started yelling. She didn't remember when she had stood up. But there she was, pacing in front of the bed, chest heaving.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."

Her mother stared at her. "Hermione, you're right. I clearly don't understand what you've gone through. And I will never forgive myself as a mother for allowing you to go through all of that. We should have paid better attention. But you had no right to take a choice like that away from us."

Hermione sank back into her chair. "I know. I know, mum. I'm so sorry." She put her head back in her hands.

They sat for a long time. "So, where do we go from here?" She asked cautiously.

Her mother grabbed her hand.

"Hermione, sweetheart. I can't tell you how happy I am that you're safe and that you came back to me. And I will always love you. There's nothing that could ever make me stop. But, I think I need some time."

The buzzing started in Hermione's head again.

"Yeah, yeah, I understand."

Her mother squeezed her hand. "It's just a lot to process, sweetheart. And I won't lie, I'm really very angry. And betrayed. But you're a good person. And we'll get past this."

Hermione nodded, blinking quickly to stave off the tears. She stood up and walked to the door.

"Hermione?" Her mother called to her as she opened the door. "Make sure you write. I'll worry otherwise."

She tried to smile. "Yeah, of course. Bye, mum."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry, I know there have been some heavy chapters lately. This is a HEA story! Happier chapters are ahead, plus some fun dramione stuff is very near!**


	19. Honking Daisies

**Author's Note:** I just posted the first fanfic I ever wrote. It's about what happens if the Death Eaters destroyed the Ministry's ability to identify muggle borns. So Hogwarts starts accepting older students to start later in life. Inspired by the classroom scene in Elf where Buddy is way too big for the desk. Anyway, if you're bored check it out.

* * *

**Chapter 19**

**Honking Daisies**

* * *

**Friday, December 4**

**Draco**

Draco remembered the first time he'd felt invisible at Hogwarts. It was just before Easter in Sixth Year. He had almost completely withdrawn from everyone. Essentially the only time he'd done anything other than work on the cabinet or go to class, was when he'd met Professor Snape for Occlumency lessons. And it's not like Professor Snape was an open book or anything. Anyway, he'd been on his way to the library to do some research and brooding, trying to decide if he'd rather be murdered by his father for failing his exams or murdered by the Dark Lord for failing the mission. He walked over to his favorite table, where there was a large group of gossiping girls were standing in his way. He cleared his throat and nothing happened. He did it again, louder, and one of the girls rolled her eyes and scooted to the side slightly so that he could pass. What the hell, he'd thought. He was used to people getting out of his way. Whether they were Slytherins and they respected him or from another house and hated him, he'd never had an experience like this. At the beginning of the year, it had been hard because he was trying to be covert on his mission. He'd had to go to great lengths to stay in the shadows, away from ass kicking younger students or vapid pureblood girls desperate for a ring. But over the next few days, he noticed that this wasn't a problem anymore. People mostly left him alone. Once he noticed it, he realized how much he could get away with. Professors let him pretended they didn't notice him not participating in class as long as he did his homework. Filch didn't follow him around anymore. Fewer squabbles with Dumbledore's favorites. Plus, people generally forgot he was there, so he heard any number of petty and horrifying secrets. Professors having affairs. Students cheating on exams. Pointless drama. If he hadn't been so worried about dying, he supposed he might have been horrified by his loss in popularity.

So, yeah. He knew exactly the kind of nonsense Mandy was probably hearing from all the other students. He almost felt bad for her.

"Good afternoon, Draco. How are you today?"

How was she always so fucking polite? He knew he wasn't making this easy for her. And he knew what she had to listen to all day.

"Okay."

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about today?"

"No."

_Fucking Merlin. What would I have to say to actually make her react?_

"How is the common room project coming along?"

"Fine."

She huffed and snapped her notebook closed. "We don't have to do this every time, you know. You give me one word answers for 30-40 minutes and then say something of substance right at the end when there's no time left. We could just skip to the part where you _actually_ tell me about your week and I'll promise I won't make you divulge anything particularly personal."

_Oh. Apparently that's it. Fourteen weeks of near-complete silence._

He raised an eyebrow at her.

She sighed. "I apologize, Draco. This is your time. You may use it as you wish." She breathed slowly. It reminded him of Umbridge trying to center herself when Potter was vocal about the Dark Lord's rising.

He fiddled with his cufflink for a moment.

"I heard that you had a bit of a disagreement with Hermione in the Headmistress's office," Mandy interjected.

_Of course._

"I suppose you could call it that," he mumbled.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

He scoffed.

"Draco, let me be frank. I've read your file. To say that you have a history of disagreements and incidents with other students over the years would be putting it lightly. But this year, you've generally stayed under the radar. Of course with the exception of treatment of…" she flipped through a folder. "An apparent bruised jaw from a supposed fight with Harry Potter." She looked up at him briefly and he tried to arrange his face into a passive expression. "Anyway, the Headmistress is concerned that the incident with Hermione signifies a return to your… 'old ways,' for lack of a better word. Madam Pomfrey mentioned something about your injury to me and her suspicions a while ago. After the Headmistress came to me about the incident in her office, I cross referenced the Hospital Wing file with my notes and realized that was the same day that you and Hermione had a disagreement in Group and she stormed out."

He rolled his eyes. "That was Potter's doing," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry?" she said, cupping her hand to her ear.

"It wasn't even a fight. He punched me. I didn't even retaliate."

She studied him.

"I assume Saint Potter will also be on the receiving end of a similar inquisition?"

She chuckled. "Of course. Now, tell me what happened."

He sunk into the couch. "He thought I was threatening her parents. I wasn't." She smiled sweetly until he unwillingly continued. "I said I wanted to visit Australia to decompress after the year ends. Do some sightseeing. But that's where her parents are now and… It was all just a big misunderstanding and Potter is wound way too tight."

"I see. And why do you think she thought you meant any harm to them?"

He rolled his eyes. "You have my file, don't you?"

"Yes. I do."

"Well, then, there's really not a lot left to interpret there. We don't get along." Unwillingly, a memory surfaced where he was restraining Granger in Umbridge's office Fifth Year.* He started counting the books on the shelf behind her.

"You seem to get along just fine this year."

"Maybe I'm just trying to keep my nose clean," he drawled, twirling his wand between his fingers. Snape had once told him that his tell was tapping his fingers. So he twirled his wand instead now.

She smiled at him smugly. "So you'd rather I thought that you are still dedicated to the pureblood Death Eater cause and just pretending this year, than admit that you don't hate her and find her annoying?"

"Well, she's still the most bloody irritating woman I've ever—" he snapped his mouth shut.

Mandy smirked at him like she'd won. "And is that the only thing I said that wasn't true?"

Another memory surfaced without his permission. He was burning rags covered in blood and vomit in the dungeons in the manor. He began counting the books again.

He knew what she wanted him to say. That he didn't care about blood purity anymore. That he was glad he'd survived the war. That he was glad the war had ended how it did. That he'd stopped believing in that crap a long time ago. That he'd really only cared about it when it made him look cool. That he'd really only cared about it when he thought it would make his father proud. That he hated his father now. That he was angry. But he wouldn't. If he started, how would he ever stop?

So he Occluded. He focused on the ripples of the Lake and let the time pass. Distantly he acknowledged Mandy's resigned sigh. Some time later he saw her shift slightly, look at her watch, and close her notebook.

He sprang up and headed for the door.

"See you next time, Draco," she said.

He paused for one second, halfway out the door. His mouth and vocal chords moved without his permission.

"I'm not a Death Eater anymore."

She nodded at him before he bolted.

* * *

**Sunday, December 6**

**Ron**

Ron stumbled through the floo in McGonagall's office. He coughed on the soot and straightened himself up.

"Finally, Mr. Weasley," the Headmistress said curtly, sitting stoically at her desk.

"Sorry, Professor. I lost track of time."

"Well, please be on your way. And take your sister with you. She's been… anxious for your return."

He whipped around to find Ginny leaning against a wall looking bored and annoyed.

"Hey, Gin," he said.

She huffed and headed towards the door.

Ron followed her. Just before he headed through the door, McGonagall spoke. "I'm glad George is alright, Ron. I was very worried about him."

He smiled at her and nodded, heading down the spiral staircase.

"Well? Do I need a babysitter to find my way back to Gryffindor now?"

She waved her hand in the air a few stairs below. "No. I've been sent to collect you by Harry." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Why?"

She burst through the door to the corridor and, though his legs were significantly longer than hers, had to speed up to catch her. She sent him a scathing look. "Apparently you're a threat to Hermione's sanity. I'm supposed to make sure you don't fuck it up."

"Why? What happened?" he demanded.

She skid to a halt. "Things didn't go well. With her parents." He waited for her to continue. "Her dad doesn't remember her and her mum… well her mum didn't exactly forgive her."

His stomach sank. He'd hoped that everything would work out.

"They got back in the middle of the night on Friday, "she continued. "Apparently she refused to stay another night after… well after whatever happened with her mum. They had to hike all the way up from Hogsmeade in the snow because she wouldn't wait until the morning when McGonagall could open up her floo. And we didn't see her all day Saturday. And then they had to wait for almost 20 minutes outside the Common Room because the Fat Lady was off with Violet having a spa night in that painting of the ancient Japanese bath on the Fourth Floor." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, she wasn't in her room and we didn't find her anywhere in the castle. She finally emerged through the portrait hole around 10 last night, went straight up to her room, and came back with that horrid old Runes book she's always lugging around. And best we can tell, she stayed up all night working. Harry found her this morning asleep on her essay. She's been working furiously all day and is being perfectly _cheerful_." She rolled her eyes as though this explained everything.

"Cheerful?"

Ginny gave him a scathing look. "She's obviously not happy. She's pretending everything's fine and absolutely refuses to answer any questions about the trip or how she's doing. She either storms off to the library or berates you for distracting her, even if she started the conversation."

"Well what the bloody hell happened down there?" He demanded.

She shrugged and started walking again. "I guess her mum remembered her and they got her to remember magic too. And it was all going fine until Hermione admitted what she'd done. She didn't forgive her and they came right back."

"Well how could she not understand?" Ron demanded. "The Death Eaters would have…" he shuddered at the thought of what horrors would have befallen the Grangers had they stayed at their home.

"I mean I imagine she'd feel very betrayed. I know I would if someone took away my memory, no matter the circumstances," Ginny said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, well it's Hermione. She'd never hurt anyone. They must know that," he seethed.

"People don't like having their choices taken away from them. I suspect they'll just need a bit of time."

Ron was so angry on Hermione's behalf. She'd sacrificed everything to keep her loved ones safe. And her parents who were supposed to love her more than anything couldn't understand that?

"Anyway," they stopped short of the Fat Lady. "Harry reckons that she is a delicate flower that needs to be tiptoed around. He sent me to ensure that you won't ask her about it until she's ready to talk about it." She rolled her eyes.

"What? Isn't that…"

"Don't get me started. Harry has decided he is the expert and authority on Hermione's feelings. You know how he gets when he's convinced he's right. She definitely needs to bring it up on her own terms, but she's not fragile."

_No. No, she's not._

"Anyway," she continued. "He made me swear that I'd get you on board today. Hot Strong Love—" she gave the password to the Fat Lady and rolled her eyes at Ron and pretended to gag. "Apparently she's a Celestina fan as well- just don't give her the inquisition around Harry. But I'm not going to pretend everything is sunshine and roses. I'm rounding on her the first chance I get and I expect you to do the same. She's the strongest person I know and I'm not treating her like she'll break apart. She doesn't have to talk about it but she doesn't have to pretend it's all fine either. Also, don't be an asshole," she spun around and jabbed him hard in the chest. "Don't be a guy about it and tell her she 'looks tired' or whatever moronic thing comes to your mind first."

Ron tried to process all of this as he followed Ginny through the portrait hole. She led him over to the corner where Harry was lounging, playing with a Snitch.

"Look who's returned," Ginny lilted.

A bush head of brown hair emerged under the tallest stack of books Ron had ever seen. Her hair was a mess and she had a crazed determination in her eyes. Typical studying behavior, he thought. That was, until he saw the dark circles under her eyes and the dry paleness of her face. _When was the last time she'd slept?_ But what killed him was the expression she had when they made eye contact. She looked meek and completely defeated. He'd never seen her like this. Not petrified in the Hospital Wing. Not unconscious on the Malfoy's floor. Not at any of the funerals. Not staring blankly at the kitchen tile after a day of wading through horrific memories.

His heart broke for her. He sank onto the couch beside where she was set up. He pulled her in for a quick side hug and kissed her head. "How… How are you Hermione?"

She smiled at him blankly. "I can't even believe how behind I am. I should have done all of this done ages ago. I can't believe how late I've left it. I barely even have time to…" She continued on and Ron tuned her out as he contemplated how to fix it all for her.

* * *

**Monday, December 7**

**Draco**

"—that's honestly the only reason I'm going along with this charade. The shopping in Italy is unparalleled. If I'm going to be forced to endure two weeks with mother pretending everything is back to normal I may as well get a new wardrobe out of it…"

Pansy had been droning on about fashion for the entirety of breakfast. Normally he would have snapped at her to shut up by now but this was the closest to the "Old Pansy" that he'd seen in a long time. So he just let his mind wander while she drabbled on about designers.

"—and apparently Signore Brunni now works for some designer in Milan and he's agreed to meet me and mother for lunch one day. I think I might be able to convince him to get me an apprenticeship. Can you imagine? Couture, gelato, and a tan? I might die of happiness."

He looked over at her and couldn't help but smile at the look of pure joy on her face.

"But aren't most of the designers in Italy muggles?" he asked.

She waved him off. "Yeah, but fashion is fashion. Plus, wizard fashion is so old fashioned. Always draped in all this heavy fabric." She grimaced at their school robes. "Muggles actually get to show some skin." She whipped out a glossy muggle magazine with some waif like model baring a very tiny bikini. "Isn't Gisele just perfection? She's on almost all the covers this year. Just look at those cheekbones." She smiled at him brightly like she'd just discovered the thirteenth use for dragon blood.

He was spared a response by Theo elbowing him in the rib. "Hey. Hermione's back."

Draco whipped his head around to see Potter and Weasley stumbling into the Great Hall like the baffoons they usually were. After a moment, he noticed the female Weasley with her head bent down, whispering furiously to—was that Granger? She looked fucking terrible.

_Fuck. It must not have gone well._

Two hours later, he and Granger were covered in soil at their table in Herbology, trying to get through the lesson.

They were mating the honking daisies.* You had to let each daisy honk at the others until it found one that they could make a song of sorts. More often than not, they really hated the potential match so they flung their leaves around kicking up soil and spraying it everywhere. A light cloud of the dragon dung soil hung in the air. Several of the girls in the class were squealing with disgust and complaining at the smell. He'd noticed Potter have to wash off his glasses multiple time. Finnigan and Thomas had made up an obnoxious song and were chanting it along with the honking. Sprout was shouting over all the noise giving them tips and instructions.

It was absolute fucking pandemonium.

Granger had volunteered run all over the greenhouse and bring various daisies over to their table rather than them wandering around like the other groups.

She dropped a large crate of honking plants, narrowly missing his fingers with the heavy pots. She stopped to catch her breath before gasping out, "any luck?"

He shook his head. "Apparently we got the picky ones. No matches yet."

She groaned and set to pick up the crate of discarded daisies he'd set aside.

"Hey, Granger," he grabbed her forearm.

She gave him a startled look and he quickly removed his hand from her arm.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, why don't you sit down. I'll grab the next batch."

She waved him off. "No, it's fine. I don't mind."

He rolled his eyes. "Well at least use a hovering charm okay? Don't throw out your back."

She looked embarrassed and resigned. He'd noticed that she often forgot about household spells. He suspected it was a muggle-born thing. She sank into her chair with defeat. "Okay, maybe I'll just catch my breath for a second."

He nodded and hovered over three crates of daisies.

They set to work attempting to match them.

He desperately wanted to ask about her trip to Australia. But he was afraid. He wasn't sure if he was more afraid that she'd be angry that he asked or if he was afraid of the answer. So he didn't say anything.

They carried on the rest of the class. Weasley and Potter had joined in on the song. He desperately wished that they had the Mandrake earmuffs.

Sprout seemed to have lost her patience and yelled at the Gryffindor boys in the class for their idiotic song. The bell rang and she shouted at them to stay behind. The rest of the class filed out. He walked a few steps behind Granger, trying to decide what to say as the sound of the honking daisies faded away.

"Granger?"

No response. Was she still mad at him?

"Granger!" he reached out and touched her shoulder.

"Hm? Oh. Yes, Malfoy?"

"I just uh… I wanted… How did it go?"

She looked at him blankly before a flash of recognition and desperation flitted across her face. She disguised it quickly. "Oh, fine."

"Oh, good." He rubbed the back of his neck.

They walked in step for a few minutes. Before he could stop himself, he found himself asking more.

"So, did she… remember you?"

Granger looked up at him sadly, hugging an old book to her chest. "Yes. She did."

"And?" He blurted out before he could question his reasoning for being so interested.

She turned back and looked up the path ahead. They walked, crunching through the newly fallen snow. It wasn't often that the snow was so dry. He preferred it this way. He recalled long winter days playing in the snow with Theo over breaks, sledding down the hills of the Manor's grounds, and sipping hot cocoa made by their house elves Taffy and Corbin.

"She remembered me," she said, interrupting his thoughts. "They're happy there together. Healthy, apart from the accident. That's the best thing I can say."

He was about to say that he was glad she was about to go. That she must have enjoyed catching up with her mother. It must have been nice to see her. She must be glad that they are safe and doing well.

_She remembered me. The best thing I can say._

Something clunked into place. "They weren't happy with you were they?"

She whipped her head around to stare into his eyes. They stared into each other's eyes for a millisecond that felt like hours. She shook her head and tried to inconspicuously blink away some tears.

"Sorry, Granger. That's some… Well, I don't know what to say."

"Thanks," she squeaked, coughing to cover up a crack in her voice.

They walked up the rest of the way to the castle in silence. Some Third Years were engaged in a snowball fight. The Parvati twins in front of them were whispering excitedly about something. A couple sat on a bench making out under the snowfall. A group of boys laughed at their friend who had slipped in the mud. He contemplated the ease with which it seemed everyone else went about daily activities. He'd wondered about this during Sixth Year when he watched his classmates engage in petty gossip and ordinary drabble. Walking next to Granger, the bravest and brightest witch of their age, not even be able to make things right with her parents… well, it seemed like two different worlds.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by a raucous chorus of the honking daisy song behind them.

"Oi! Hermione! Wait up!"

It was the voice of Weasley. He rolled his eyes. _No tact, like always._

Granger turned around and waved at them halfheartedly.

"See you, Malfoy."

He nodded at her. Just as she turned around he said softly, "I really am sorry, Granger. That really fucking sucks."

She smiled at him weakly before walking out of sight. "Thanks, Draco."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** As always, thanks for reading. You're all wonderful! A couple notes about various things in the chapter below.

 ***** Honestly, I can't exactly remember who restrains who (whom? Grammar Nazis need not apply) in Order of the Phoenix. But I'm completely tainted by LovesBitca8's version of events in the Rights and Wrongs series, so I'm going with that version because I'm too lazy to get my book and look it up.

 ***** Another random note. At some point in the series someone says something about "not like those honking [daisies] Sprout has. I always thought it just mean they were big – like big and ugly. My husband always thought they actually honked. I don't know what's correct, but his version entertained me very much so I included it here and it's now my official canon.


	20. Sexism and Secrets

**Author's Note:** (back by popular demand) I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, we would have gotten a much more thorough look into the mechanics of magical portraits.

* * *

**Chapter 20 – Sexism and Secrets**

* * *

**Thursday, December 10**

**Hermione**

Hermione was speed reading her potions notes over breakfast, sparing a miffed look at Harry and Ron who were trying to throw pieces of a muffin into each other's mouths. They had a practical exam in potions today. Professor Slughorn would give each of them a potion to brew and they would be required to do so without notes. Harry, obviously, wasn't particularly concerned, given that he'd decided to abandon his education. She still thought it would be good for him to pay attention, considering he might actually have to brew one eventually. Ron, she thought, should be thoroughly stressed about the entire affair. But, alas, he did not seem to be overly concerned. She rolled her eyes.

The familiar rustle of the post owls announced the arrival of 8 a.m. She quickly turned a page. That meant class would start in just an hour. She glanced up anxiously, and then forced herself to turn back to her book. True to her word, she'd sent her mother a letter just after returning to Hogwarts. She'd paid top dollar for an international post account so that she and her mother could communicate. But even with the expedited service, she thought it was unlikely she'd already have received a note back. She had chosen to believe that any delay was due to the post and not because her mother had changed her mind.

She did squint curiously at a pair of owls that were hurtling suspiciously towards their area of the table with two large packages. Before she could warn her neighbors, the owls crashed down on the table and one of the packages came loose, rolling down the table, displacing dishes and knocking over glasses. She rolled her eyes. As smart as post owls were, they weren't really the most efficient system.

"What the hell?" Ron exclaimed.

Harry attempted to shake some of the poorly aimed crumbs from his chest and helped Hermione restore some order to their area of the table. Ginny was grumbling and cursing. She wasn't a morning person and snapped at Harry as he tried to dry her skirt that was now soaked in orange juice. Ron was still staring curiously at the packages.

"What are they?" Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged and reached out for one. He turned it over to see the label and chucked it to Harry, grabbing the other. It must have been addressed to him because he began to rip open the packaging.

Harry was staring into the contents of the box with an open mouth.

"Ah hah!" Ron shouted enthusiastically, after furiously ripping open the package. "About damn time!"

"What have you been sent?" Hermione asked.

Ginny looked over Harry's shoulder and cackled.

She saw Harry blush and rush to put away the package, but Ginny was quicker.

"They've been sent _their_ chocolate frog cards," she said with a devilish grin, all morning grumpiness forgotten.

Hermione looked quickly between the two boys. Harry was blushing furiously now and trying to tug something out of Ginny's hands. Ron was beaming, holding a small object out in front of him with pride.

Ginny cleared her throat. "Harry James Potter, The Boy Who Lived, cemented his place in wizarding history after defeating He Who Must Not Be Named two times before age 18. The youngest Seeker in a century, he has won the Hogwarts house Quidditch cup three times. Following his education, he will pursue an auror career. He was raised by his muggle aunt and uncle following the murder of his parents by He Who Must Not Be Named." Ginny snorted before continuing, "The wizarding world owes him it's gratitude, blah, blah, blah."

Harry pushed some egg around on his plate. Hermione gaped at the pair of them.

Quick as a flash, she snatched Ron's from his hand and read aloud. "Ronald Billius Weasley is second youngest of seven and best friend to Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. He is known for helping to defeat He Who Must Not Be Named. In his spare time he enjoys playing Quidditch as Keeper and wizard chess. After Hogwarts, he will pursue a career as an auror or in Quidditch."

She turned the card over as if she expected to find more written. Scoffing, she dove into the package pulling out the copy of Witch Weekly in the box. Angrily, she flipped through the magazine, finding the glossy spreads on her two friends. Ron was pictured on his broom, looking ruggedly windswept, pumping his fists into the air after a victorious match. In his feature, Harry was shaking hands with Professor McGonagall, covered in dirt (and blood it was likely) after the final battle. She furiously scanned the article, growing more incensed with every line. And there were more pictures. Harry with Dumbledore. Ron with his family. Harry in the TriWizard Tournament. Ron with Bill at the wedding. Harry hugging Dennis Creevy. Quotes from students and professors about their intelligence and how respected they were.

"What the fuck?"

Seamus snorted out his tea next to her. "Language, Granger," he teased.

"Where's the rubbish about how you've grown into your looks or who you're dating or how you've grown popular despite being a bossy know it all?" Hermione said angrily.

Ron shrugged. "Guess they don't care about that anymore."

Ginny rolled her eyes and threw a pastry at him. "More like they don't care about it because they're men and they have more to offer than childbearing hips and good looks."

Hermione seethed. Shortly after discovering her unwilling existence on a chocolate frog card, Witch Weekly had published an infuriating editorial on her life. In addition to grossly understating her qualifications and marks, it had painted a simpering picture of how hard she'd had to work to measure up to her famous male counterparts. It had also included several pictures with which she'd more than once considered suing over. First was a particularly embarrassing picture from when she was five which they had almost certainly got from illegally entering her parents' house. Second was a misleading picture of her at the Yule Ball, with Viktor leaning in suggestively. In reality, he'd had to lean in so that she could bloody understand that infuriating accent. And to top it off, the feature portrait had been a paparazzi photo of her dressed in an uncharacteristically skimpy dress for a night in which Ginny had used her as a doll and dragged her to a muggle club. They'd quoted other students and people she'd never met before, all who had noted how far she'd come from her "ugly duckling" beginnings. She could physically feel her blood pressure rising.

"Well it's bullshit!"

She glared at Harry, who looked up from reading it and gave her a sympathetic grimace.

"C'mon, Hermione. Don't be upset. At least yours came out first!" Ron said, nudging her in the ribs playfully.

She cursed again, and stormed out of the Great Hall, still clutching the magazine.

* * *

**Draco**

"75… 76… 77…"

BANG

Draco jumped and cursed as the entire handful of wormwood he was holding fell into the cauldron. He whipped around to find out why the potion he'd been working on for a week was now ruined.

_Of fucking course._

Granger was throwing her enormous bag onto the table and muttering to herself.

"What the fuck, Granger?" he shouted.

She nearly jumped out of her skin. "Malfoy?"

"No, it's Dumbledore," he spat, levitating his cauldron over to the sink where he could dump it out.

"Well what are you doing in here?"

He glared at her. "I _was_ brewing a potion. Now I'm dumping it out because you ruined it."

She scoffed. "I'm across the room. I did no such thing."

"Well when you came banging in here like a blind dragon, I dumped all my wormwood into the potion. It needed to be added, one leaf at a time, five seconds apart, over 90 seconds. The whole fucking jar ended up in there."

She rolled her eyes. "Well it's not my fault you're jumpy."

"Well, I've been working on this version for four days now and now I have to start all over. That is if Slughorn still even has any aconite left."

She turned around to face him, a curious look on her face. "What are you making?"

He sneered at her. "What's got your kickers in a twist?"

"I asked first."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm developing a solution for the aquarium in the all student commons. It's a cleaning solution."

She wandered over. "You can't do that with a spell?"

He shook his head. "No. Well, yes, but it's not very effective. Some of the fish and plants that reside in the Lake are particularly rare and many of the magical solutions are toxic to them. The cleaning spells would have to be redone daily to make up for the natural ecosystem of the Lake. I'm trying to adjust one of the cleaning solutions Eeylops sells."

She eyed him with surprise. "It's pretty ambitious. And aconite is notoriously dangerous in raw form. Did McGonagall ask you to do this?"

He shrugged. "No."

"Then why?"

_If you must know, I'm supremely bored, considering there's not a fucking thing for me to do. My friends are too depressed to be any fun and both of the bartenders in Hogsmeade hate me. And I'm too chicken to ask to try out for the Quidditch team._

He glared at her before turning away to clean up the ingredients and prepare his workspace for class.

"Why are you so angry today anyway? Only get a 99 out of 100 on your most recent Charms paper?" he teased.

She huffed.

"If you _must_ know, Harry and Ron received their newly minted chocolate frog cards today."

Draco grimaced. He had known it was only a matter of time. He had been surprised in the first place that Potter's hadn't come out before Granger's in the first place. And, truth be told, he didn't hate Potter all that much anymore. Potter had been decent to him and Draco knew he owed him a huge debt. He was just… so annoyingly righteous. Talented, but annoyingly humble. And clumsy – both in the literal and figurative sense. And disgustingly Gryffindor. But there was still something about the idea of unwrapping his favorite treat only to be smiled up at by the speckled scar face that made him never want to eat one again. And Weasley? His already short temper threatened to snap at the thought. He was surely over the fucking moon.

"And I suppose you're upset that you're not the most popular one in the trio anymore?" he said, deliberately goading her.

She glared at him. "Hardly."

"What then?"

She dug around in her bag for something and threw a magazine at him, folded open to two side-by-side features of Boy Wonder and Weasel Face. He tossed it aside. "And?"

She threw herself into her chair. "Did you ever read… _mine_?"

_Yes._

"Why? Going to ask if I want it autographed as well?"

"Well, theirs drone on and on about how brave and smart and wonderful they are. It touts their accomplishments and praises them for their assistance in defeating Voldemort. It talks about their careers." She fidgeted with one of the curls around her face. "Mine? Well it just talked about how miraculous it is that I was able to hold my wand correctly considering how ugly I used to be. And now that I am… grown up… the only thing I'm good for is being a floozy on someone's arm."

_Ah._

He had read it. Pansy had thrown it at him, complaining about how she was sure to get all the best robes from the fanciest designers free of charge now that she was a celebrity. While listening to her rant about how it was wasted on Granger, he'd scanned the article.

In truth, he had found it a surprisingly poor excuse for journalism, and that was really something, considering the already rock bottom standard of Witch Weekly. He had noted the particularly patronizing way that the article had downplayed her intelligence which he'd been stubbornly ignoring since 11 years of age.

His memory flashed to a gala in the Manor the summer before Fourth Year. His mother had organized a benefit campaign for a childhood illness that was rare but typically fatal, even in the wizarding world. She'd spent the entire summer recruiting volunteers, researching the cause, and meeting with investors, healers, and benefactors. She'd strongarmed members of the Wizengamot and the Ministry to direct more funding towards the research cause. Then she'd organized a fundraising gala in she and his father's name. The pretentious French healer DuBois who was in charge of the children's wing at Saint Mungo's had gotten up on stage to thank his father for the strides made in the cause and praised his mother for "what an impeccable home she kept." He didn't think he'd ever forget the briefest flash of surprised betrayal on her face when his father had gladly taken the mic and did nothing but claim the credit all for his own.

"—and you'd think that after everything they would have started to realize that there's more important things than what someone looks like! God forbid I try to make something out of myself. You know, my mum had a great aunt that lived to 103 and was one of the most widely respected professors in her field. But at her funeral they called her a lonely spinster. I swear she probably only lived that long because she never bothered to get married. Boys are a lot more trouble than they're worth, really."

He stifled a laugh as she paced in front of him, running her hands through her hair.

"Well?" she demanded of him.

He shrugged at her. "It's the world, Granger. They've always just wanted you to sit down and shut up."

"Well I won't!" she shouted.

He couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up. He instantly regretted it as her eyes flashed with rage. "Look, Granger. I agree. It's a terrible double standard. You're the smartest one at Hogwarts and you'll run the whole damn country one day. Plus, you carried that Golden Trio team, no matter what some trash tabloid says." He raised an eyebrow at her.

She snapped her mouth shut as Slughorn came in and jovially commiserated with Draco about his potion.

* * *

**Sunday, December 13**

**Ron**

Ron trudged down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry was still fast asleep when he left. He was vaguely aware that Harry had stumbled in very late the night before after a date night with Ginny in Hogsmeade. It had taken a little bit of adjustment but Ron was actually quite pleased that they were dating. He'd truly never seen either happier. And at least Harry was a decent bloke. But… he still preferred not to dwell on the… finer details of their activities.

So, he started down to breakfast alone, toting a very full school bag. Truthfully, Ron was starting to get a little bit concerned about the workload and exam schedule. He didn't know if it was a NEWT preparation thing or just because he'd taken an entire year off from homework, but it really did seem like effort expected was more than anything he'd experienced before. He wasn't naïve – he knew that he wasn't the fastest owl in the barn, as his mother said. But he wasn't an idiot either. He just often didn't try that hard. Having fun was more important. He always _passed_ at least. Honestly, he didn't know how he would have fared without Hermione. She'd truly saved both his and Harry's asses more times than anyone could count.

And now… he needed saving again. He'd waited in the Common Room for 20 minutes before Parvati told him she'd already left. He poked his head in the Great Hall but she wasn't there either. He grabbed a pastry and headed off to the library, where he was certain he'd find her.

Halfway to the Library, he decided to take a detour and pass by the remnants of the Portable Swamp that Fred and George had left. He still liked to come see it sometimes. Rounding the corner, he abruptly ran into another person. Stumbling backwards, he righted himself to see who he'd run into. It was Pansy Parkinson. She was staring at him with wide eyes, embarrassed and scared.

"Er, sorry. Wasn't watching where I was going," he said.

She mumbled something and headed off in the other direction.

He watched her leave. This had not been the only time he'd encountered or seen her around this area. He was mildly curious, but each time he'd even considered asking why she kept coming to the swamp memorial, she'd already bolted. He shook his head to himself and set off again, before he heard his name called from behind him.

"Weasley?"

He turned around to see her standing at the end of the hall looking uncharacteristically out of sorts.

"Uh, yeah?"

She stood at the end of the hall wringing her hands before cursing and making her way towards him.

Truthfully, he hadn't really given her much thought that year. He'd always held a lot of contempt for her, mainly because of the mistreatment she'd given Hermione all through the years. Even Malfoy, he'd been painfully aware of all year, even though he hadn't even come close to abuse them. His immediate impulse was to stride away from her quickly before she had the chance to say anything rude. But something made him fashion his face into a calm and curious expression.

"Well, I… There's something… I think you should know…"

_Where could this be going?_

He stared down at her as she fussed with her hair and looked at him with fearful eyes.

"What's up, Par- Pansy?"

She sighed heavily and closed her eyes before launching into a rushed speech. "Well, look, I know what you think of me. I've always been cruel to you guys and there's really no excuse. I'm a spoiled brat and I always have been. Draco's always been jealous of Potter and so I followed suit. And truthfully, I don't know that I've totally changed my mind. I still think Potter maybe should have turned himself in sooner and then maybe… And I'm not an idiot. That's the most unpopular opinion anyone has ever had. But we all lost people we loved. I'm not saying I think Voldemort was right, but my life has been made harder by Gryffindors all my life. You lot break rules and the only one that would do anything about it was Snape. And even then Dumbledore would just make it go away. Meanwhile, if any of us even blinked wrong in Scarhead's direction in front of McGonagall or Dumbledore, we'd have detention for a month. And I know it's stupid to care about something as silly as the House Cup first year, but just think about how that set the tone. It's always been the whole school against Slytherin. Ever notice how the other houses always cheer for whoever is playing Slytherin during matches? It's ridiculous. I'm not saying that we've all behaved like angels. But when you grow up thinking the world is against you, you don't always make the best choices."

"If you want to compare who had it harder—" Ron started to interrupt.

"No, I know. I've had an amazing life. Like I said, spoiled brat." She jabbed herself in the chest. "But look, I'm mad at everyone. I'm mad at Dumbledore for being unfair. I'm also mad at him for going and dying and letting those thugs take over. I'm mad that Snape didn't do a better job protecting us. I'm mad at Draco for letting in the Death Eaters Sixth Year and never telling me what he was doing. I'm mad at my parents for raising me the way they did. I'm mad at the Ministry for locking me up in Azkaban for a month even though all I did was suggest that we sacrifice one for the good of the group. And don't even get me started on how mad I am at Longbottom—"

"What the hell did Neville ever do to you?" Ron nearly shouted. "You've tortured him for seven years and now you're mad that he helped defeat the worst dark wizard ever? You've got a lot of nerve—"

"Oh shut up," she rolled her eyes. "I'm glad You Know Who is gone. I'm mad at him for not doing anything Seventh Year." She was no longer nervously fidgeting, but had her arms crossed in defiance, staring up at him.

"You can't be serious! Neville is a hero! He kept everyone safe from your daddy's buddies," Ron spat.

She narrowed her eyes at him dangerously. "He did no such thing. He protected everyone. Everyone but the Slytherins," she shouted before he could interrupt again. "Did it never occur to anyone that there were First and Second Years in Slytherin too? They got treated almost as poorly as everyone else, but they didn't get to hide away in the Room of Requirement like the other houses. No. The rest of us had to do it. And that's not fair. I don't know if it's because of the difference in age or just because most of their parents are normal, as you'd call them, and not nearly as Death Eater leaning. But they came to Hogwarts to get an education just like the rest of us, and then they're told they're scum because of the house they ended up being sorted into? And they're blamed by the rest of their year as well? No, that's bullshit. And if you all were really as perfect as you thought you were, you would have helped them too."

The silence of the hallway rang as Ron digested her words.

"So, forgive me if I don't fall at Longbottom and Potter and McGonagall's feet. I don't forgive them for that. I certainly owe Potter a great deal of thanks for finishing You Know Who off. But don't expect me to just forget about everything."

Ron glared at her. "So… you've pulled me aside to tell me why you think me and my friends are a load of dragon dung? Instead of just leaving us along like you have all year? What? Have you gotten bored of being nice?"

She sighed and rubbed her temples before sinking down onto a bench nearby.

"No, that's not why I wanted to talk to you. I'm fucking it all up."

Ron was fuming. He didn't need this shit. "Then what? I have somewhere to be."

"Okay, okay. Just hang on. It came out all wrong. I wanted you to know…" She banged her head on the wall behind her lightly. "Okay, fine. I just have to admit something. And before I did, I wanted you to know that while I'm not interested in having some sappy forgiveness love fest like Draco… Anyway, I don't want that. But I'm also not like my parents. Basically, I don't like you, but I don't think you should be dead either."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Great, thanks, Parkinson. Can I go now?"

"No. That… That was just the intro."

"THEN WHAT?"

She shot up off the bench and started pacing in front of him. "It's my fault, okay!"

"What is?" he said, narrowing his eyes.

"Your brother. Fred," she whispered.

Ron's ears rang and he gaped at her. "What?"

"Well, my father's actually. He was responsible for the explosion. And… he's dead. So he can't be held accountable. But I'm still here and I think it's only fair that you know what happened. I knew that you didn't. I heard your testimony at the Ministry. And before Draco left Azkaban, his father told him that my father had been ordered to protect the corridor by any means necessary. And apparently he'd bragged about an explosion spell. So anyway. That's it. If you're gonna hate me, hate me for that. Not any of the other stuff. That's just child's play. Anyway, I just… thought you should know."

Then, she turned on her heel and ran from the hall, leaving Ron to wonder how the hell his morning had gotten turned so upside down.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! :)**


	21. The Last Night

**Author's Note:** I don't own Harry Potter. Otherwise we'd have a definitive answer to whether or not they wear clothes under their robes.

* * *

**Chapter 21: The Last Night**

* * *

**Tuesday, December 15**

**Hermione**

Hermione had perched herself on one of the rocks by the lake. She watched the snow fall and entertained herself by watching her breath make clouds as it met the cold air. She'd always liked winter. Most people preferred fall. But Hermione liked the winter. There was something so peaceful about it. The snow made everything quieter and softer.

After a bit of watching snow fall and listening the sounds of the chirping birds in the forest behind her she decided to proceed with the task that had brought her out here. She pulled out a short stack of letters that she'd received over the past week.

The first was an update from Healer Marcos she'd received a few days prior. She scanned it quickly. There wasn't anything new he had to report.

The second was a letter from her mother that she'd received about a week ago. Each time Ginny, Harry, or Ron had asked her about it, she'd abruptly changed the subject, not willing to admit she was too cowardly to read it.

But when she'd received another one this morning, she knew she'd have to open it.

She held her breath and ripped open the first letter. She felt her eyes tearing up at the first sight of her mum's feminine and neat handwriting. It had been a year and a half since she'd seen it – since she'd written to Hermione.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I hope you got back to school alright. I've been thinking about you constantly. I know things were emotional when you left. I want to make sure you understand that I love you. Nothing could keep me from loving you. You're a good person and I'm so proud of you. I just need a little time to process everything. I would never forgive myself if I said something rash in the heat of the moment that I couldn't take back. I know we'll get back to our old dynamic._

_I've asked a few of the doctors here if they knew anything about you. They all do! It appears my little girl is quite the hero and celebrity. One man even asked if you were single! They all seem a bit reluctant to go into details and I can't tell if it's because they think you should tell me or if they think I won't understand because I'm not magic. It's just so hard to understand why you'd go to such an extreme. Can you tell me a little more about what you've been through? You indicated that I don't even know the full extent of your activities during school. On top of feeling conflicted about everything, I feel horribly guilty that I didn't pay better attention during your childhood. Perhaps all of this could have been avoided if I'd made more of an effort. I recall Molly and Arthur always being so helpful. I wish I'd taken more care to learn about your world with them…_

_Anyway, I'll tell you a bit about what your father and I have been up to. As much as I disapprove of your actions, I must say that it's been wonderful living here in Australia. It's always been one of our favorite places. I suspect that's why you sent us there. You must remember us gushing about our holidays there. It was easy enough to set up a new practice. Thankfully people neglect their teeth in all corners of the world, so business has been great. In fact, people love our accent, especially the kiddos. Your dad is especially popular with the younger ladies. I pretend to be jealous to boost his ego. You know how he gets._

_The office next door is leased by accountants. They've become very close friends. I must say that we have more friends and a better social life here than we ever did in England. I'd make a joke about it being due to the fact that we didn't have a daughter to look out for, but you never did need much supervision anyway. Your dad has taken up a lot of water sports. He is truly the lousiest surfer I've ever seen, but he hasn't given up yet. He's much better at wind surfing. I, of course, have no interest in such things. But I've been volunteering for a small publishing house here. I get to read so many interesting books! Most of them are children's books or young adult novels. I've also started painting again. There's so much more scenery to enjoy here. Though, I will say, I do miss England. I miss our little house. I hope the rose bushes are still thriving there. And I miss the food. However, I don't miss the weather._

_Dr. Marcos seems to think your dad is showing some promising signs. He mentioned something the other day about that holiday trip we took to the coast. Supposedly, we'll be cleared to go home soon. I get a little disoriented in the morning sometimes, but that's been waning every day._

_Please write soon, I worry about you. You're so strong and you've always carried too much on your own. And I know how much this is all weighing on you. Plus, you have your studies to think about it. Speaking of, tell me what your plans are for after graduation!_

_Love,_

_Mum_

Hermione sniffled loudly and wiped away the tears that were streaming from her eyes. How perfect was someone allowed to be? After everything, all her mother was doing was worrying about her. She'd feel better if she yelled and refused to talk to her. But that's how it always went. Disappointment always stung more than anger. She felt even guiltier for not reading it sooner. She ripped open the second one.

_Hermione,_

_I hope you received my last letter. The nurse here told me that Owl Post is very effective but I just don't buy it. Seems like there should be a more efficient system._

_I have great news! I told Dr. Marcos that I wanted to be the one to tell you. Your dad has had a breakthrough! He definitely is starting to remember some things! I can't believe it. They said that it was a huge fluke that I remembered anything and that it must have had something to do with our near-death experience._

_Anyway, we were getting ready to pack up and head home when he got really agitated. I was trying to throw out this ruddy stack of newspapers he'd been hoarding – you know how he does. And he started yelling that he was saving them. So I told him we could still get the paper at home but he got a funny look on his face and said that he was saving them for you! I was so shocked that I didn't know what to say. As you can imagine, he got a bit flustered and confused after that. They had to sedate him. I was so upset when he started yelling and then went into a bit of a catatonic state. So I ended up staying the night. The next morning he recalled a bit but was still very disoriented. But little by little it appears he's regaining more. I'm working with Dr. Marcos on a similar process that you wen through with me._

_Isn't that great, sweetie? I'm just beside myself. I have to say, it'll be nice to have someone to talk to who understands. I don't know how he'll react to the more serious part of the news. But we'll take that as it comes. I hate to ask you, but I'm hoping you'd be willing to be there to tell him. I know it's a terrible thing to ask. I know how hard it was for you to go through it with me. But as I'm still sorting my feelings out on the situation… I just would hate for any of my emotions to cloud the situation. Dr. Marcos said I can stay as long as I want and we'll likely be here through the New Year. Would you consider coming while you're on break? The nurse I've made friends with said school should be out this weekend for the term. Let me know._

_Talk soon._

_Love,_

_Mum_

Hermione couldn't believe her eyes. Her father had miraculously recovered? She looked up to the sky and said a silent prayer of thank you. Her parents had never been religious, so neither had she. But, in instances like this, she always tried to send a little gratitude into the universe for whatever was out there.

She knew it would be a long battle. Her dad was one of the most stubborn people she knew. She'd heard that you end up looking for traits in a partner that you see in your parents. If that was the case, it made sense she gravitated to Ron, the actual most stubborn man in the universe. Her dad was also prideful. She loved him dearly, but suspected this reveal would not go as well as it had with her mother. And considering how that had turned out, it was a bleak thought.

But she shook the thought from her head. The good news was that he would get his life back. Even if he refused to speak to her ever again, at least she'd know that she'd done right by them.

She quickly scribbled a note to her mother.

_Mum –_

_That is amazing news. I am so glad to hear it. Of course I'll come! My last exam is on Friday and I can come directly after that._

_I'll write more later, but I wanted to make sure you got this straight away._

_Hermione_

She folded it up and raced off to the Owelry to send the letter, thinking that, for once, things were actually looking up.

* * *

**Thursday, December 17**

**Harry**

"Finally back from your nighttime stroll, eh?" The Fat Lady grumbled at him as Harry approached, tugging off the invisibility cloak.

Harry smiled at her. "You know me, I can't resist breaking the rules every now and then."

She smirked at him. "So tomorrow's your last day?"

"Word travels fast, I guess."

She shrugged. "The portraits in the headmistresses' office like to gossip."

He laughed. "Yeah. What else do they have to do these days?"

"Between you and me, this headmistress is quite boring compared to our late Professor Dumbledore. She has absolutely forbidden the portraits in there to share any gossip. It's become dreadfully boring."

"Sorry to hear that. I imagine Dumbledore kept things pretty interesting around here."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, as much as I can't say I'll miss being woken up in the middle of the night for your little adventures, I think I'll miss you."

He looked up in surprise.

"My portrait has hung at Hogwarts for 250 years. And 171 years ago, I was appointed the guardian of Gryffindor Tower. I was never particularly well behaved during my days at Hogwarts so it was a surprise to me when I was appointed. But I've seen more than a thousand Gryffindors come and go. And I think you all forget that I watch you grow up. I always get a little misty each June when you all leave. And here I find out that you're leaving early and I don't even have time to prepare."

Harry stared at her agape. He was embarrassed to find that he'd really never considered the Fat Lady a person. She was just the means to the end of a day.

"Well, I… I don't know what to say."

She smiled at him. "Go live a good life. And come see me every once in a while. He Who Must Not Be Named might be gone, but I'll eat the Sorting Hat if I believe you'll stay out of trouble for the rest of your life. It can be very dull here, you know?"

"You got it…" he said, realizing he didn't know her name. He bent down to look at the name plate below her portrait.

"Madam Anne Bell, Mr. Potter," she said, swinging open for him, despite him having never given the password.

"Goodnight, Madam Bell," he said, heading towards the portrait hole.

"Oh, and Mr. Potter?" he poked his head back out. "Give me a year or so's notice before those eventual children of you and that fiery redhead show up here with that infernal cloak? Your father was trouble. You're even more so. I suspect the trend will continue. Yeah?"

Harry laughed and agreed, heading up the stairs, feeling that he couldn't have asked for a better send off.

* * *

**Saturday, December 19**

**Draco**

"...and of course, here is a trophy from the All-Wizard Hospital Quidditch Competition. We've won it two years running now!" Monsieur Dubois stared pointedly at Draco. "Of course, it's well known that you are one of the greatest seekers of your generation."

_Good lord, what a pile of…_

Theo snorted behind him.

"Oh how lovely!" Narcissa cooed. "Draco rarely gets to play anymore but I know how much he misses it."

"Oh well you just _must_ meet the Australian national team when they're here for the gala. I daresay they'd be thrilled to let you practice with them while you're here."

"Ohhhh Draco, wouldn't that be just marvelous?" his mother cooed.

 _Fuck me._ Yes, he did miss Quidditch. But, no, he did not want a pity invitation to play with a team who had absolutely no interest in him. And he certainly didn't want to do it in this heat. South of the equator was just unnatural, he decided. No one should be warm in December.

"I would be delighted to meet them, Monsieur Dubois."

"Oh, please, how many times must I ask you to call me Raphael?"

The schmoozing continued for at least another hour. Draco was tired. The blasted time change had forced them to portkey into Australia, get settled and changed and meet the chief administrator, Monsieur Dubois for a tour of the hospital and torturous brown nosing. By his calculations it was at least two or three in the morning London time. His mother had shoved a pepper up potion in his hand and scolded him for complaining. He and Theo had been trailing behind while his mother light heartedly flirted with the hospital administrator who had his head so far up her-

"Young Master Malfoy!"

He felt a hand shove him forward.

"Hm?"

"I was saying that we've arrived at the long-term spell damage wing."

"Oh, wonderful."

"Would you care for a tour?" Dubois rounded the corner and started to open the door to the wing.

"Oh that's not nec—Oh shit!"

He was cut off by a scalding hot liquid hitting his chest.

"Draco! Language."

"Oh no! Draco I'm so sorry! Wait, Malfoy?"

His eyes watering, he searched for the reason for the assault. Granger was standing inches from him holding two now empty styrofoam cups that had held likely once held tea. She was looking up at him, her eyes wide with embarrassment and confusion.

"Granger?"

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry, Malfoy!" She reached out and lightly touched his now soaked shirt. "I wasn't looking where I was going! I hope you're not too burnt!"

"Er, no I'll be alright. My shirt on the other hand..."

"Oh of course!" She looked horrified. "I'll buy you a new one! Just tell me the brand and I'll make sure to replace it."

"It's alright, Granger, since he only wears shades of white, gray, and black, he has about a thousand just like it," Theo drawled from behind him.

"Theo?" She peered around him curiously. "Oh! Mrs. Malfoy! Hello. And Monsieur Dubois. Please excuse my interruption."

Dubois held out his hand. "Echentee miss...?"

"Hermione Granger." she blushed

"How extraordinary to meet you. Of course, we know all about your heroism even here on the opposite side of the world!"

"Oh, well, thank you sir," Hermione said.

Draco didn't think she could have gotten any redder than she was, but he was wrong. He also thought it was quite telling that Fuckwad Dubois was willing to gloss over the Malfoy family history to get money, claiming he "didn't hear much about the war down here" but yet seemed to know everything about Granger.

"And you know young master Malfoy? Friends from school I assume?"

"I wouldn't go quite that far," Draco murmured.

"Oh nonsense, Draco!" Theo was smirking. Draco shot him a murderous glare but Theo winked at him and continued. "Draco and Granger are Herbology partners."

"Draco! You didn't mention this!" His mother had come to stand closer to him.

"And she's helping him with that common room project we told you about last night. I daresay they're very close these days..." Theo hummed.

"Oh I had no idea! How lovely!" his mother purred.

"Well any friend of Draco's is a friend of the hospital." Dubois bowed at her and winked. "Would you like to join us for the remainder of our tour?"

"Er, no thank you," she stuttered. "I have... I'm already... I..." She looked hopelessly at Draco. Everything clunked into place. She was visiting her parents. They were likely inside the wing they were about to tour. _Shit_.

"I thought you were going to the Burrow for Christmas," he stated coldly.

"I was. I mean I am. I just... had business here that needed my attention first."

"How long will you be in Australia Miss Granger?" His mother was asking.

"Oh, are you interested in becoming a healer? I daresay we'd be lucky to have you Ms. Granger," Dubois practically exploded with delight.

Dubois and his mother burst into happy conversation about and with Hermione while she stood looking shell-shocked.

"-you'll be here tomorrow you absolutely _must_ join us for the gala."

"-the Prime Minister would be thrilled to meet you!"

"-if Draco had mentioned one of his friends would be here I would have insisted..."

"-daughters will be in attendance and they would be beside themselves if they had an opportunity to meet you."

"-unless you were already planning to attend I doubt you'll have a gown..."

"-really do put out quite the spread. Finest elf-made wine and locally sourced meats and cheeses."

She looked hopelessly between Dubois, his mother, and Draco and mumbled something inaudible.

"I'm sorry dear, I didn't quite catch that."

She steeled herself and closed her eyes as though resigning herself to her fate. "I'm visiting my parents. They are currently... here." She gestured to the door.

The longest second passed.

Dubois looked horrified. His mother quickly fashioned her face into somber curiosity. He saw the slightest flicker of her eyes and knew that she was horrified that her gossiping socialite brain had dared to forget he'd casually mentioned this in one of his early letters this year.

"Oh," Dubois said. "I had no idea. I don't remember anyone with the surname Granger being on the charts."

"Oh well it's... They... It's Wilkins now."

Another awkward silence.

"Well, I should..." she glanced at the door.

"Of course! Miss Granger, it was an absolute delight to meet you. I'll let you get back to your family."

She opened the door. "Thank you, it was wonderful to meet you too. Enjoy your visit, Mrs. Malfoy. Theo. Draco."

He realized suddenly that she only used his first name when she was uncomfortable. _Best not to dwell on that one now._

She started to push through it and Draco started to retreat around the corner as quickly as possible.

"Hermione, dear! Is that you? Where've you gotten off to?" a woman questioned from behind the door

"Nowhere, mum. I just ran into someone..."

"Oh do you have friends here?"

He heard her stammering and her mother scolding her using a tone that he recognized. Apparently, it was a talent all mothers shared.

 _Move faster you old hack_. Dubois was droning on about a statue of some old witch who did something mildly interesting several hundred years ago. He tried move them along before the inevitable happened. He prayed silently for a stroke a luck that he knew he wouldn't be given. He could hear muffled arguing as they turned around they corner.

"Uh, Malfoy?" he heard from behind him. He closed his eyes.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, Miss Granger?" his mother asked politely.

"Uh, my mother insists that I introduce you. I assured her that you have a schedule to stick to but... well.. She insists. She sent an orderly for tea service." She looked at Draco apologetically.

"Oh, well how lovely of her to think of us! We would be delighted," his mother sang.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. I'll come back in an hour or so and show you out," Dubois said.

They all awkwardly shook hands and Draco, his mother, Theo and Hermione turned back towards the long term spell damage wing.

Just before entering, Granger turned back abruptly, wringing her hands.

"Uh, it occurs to me that you might be curious as to why my muggle parents are in a magical hospital for magical reasons. And one in Australia, no less."

"Oh, dear you need not feel that we are invading your privacy," his mother said.

Granger waved her off. "It's fine. You see... Before the war started, I feared for their safety. I knew long before Harry figured it out that he would ultimately face Voldemort and I knew that I would go with him. I knew once that happened that my parents would be in grave danger. They would never have accepted help from the Order or the Ministry. And I knew that even if they had, they wouldn't be safe for long. I knew the horrors that would befall magical England once Voldemort took over. Harry _needed_ to defeat him. And I needed to help him. And I knew that none of us would have been able to stand idly by if he or any of the D- Any of his followers captured my parents and used them as leverage against us. So. I took matters into my own hands. I modified their memories so that they did not remember they had a daughter. And I used the Imperius Curse to change their names and convince them to move to Australia."

She said it all very fast, as though it was a bandage that needed to be ripped off quickly. Though he knew the basics of the story, it was something different hearing her tell it. She said it flippantly as though it was as common as reading a potions recipe. Though, he noted the sad guilt and resignation behind her words.

He stole a glance at his mother and Theo. His mother was doing her best to look sympathetic and surprised, even though she already knew all this. Theo looked flabbergasted. He was staring at her horror struck with his mouth open. Catching Draco's eyes, he shut his mouth and used his Slytherin senses to mold his face into a more concerned expression. After Draco grumpily (and guiltily) thrown himself into an armchair in the Slytherin Common Room, Theo had forced him to tell him about the incident in the Headmistress's office. He'd done so reluctantly, but edited. He told Theo Granger's parents had lost their memories as part of an accident while they were in hiding with the Order. He hadn't thought to correct himself to Theo and he certainly hadn't expected to run into Granger.

"Oh, dear, that is terrible. I am very sorry that you had to do that," his mother grasped her hands. Granger looked startled but arranged her face into a polite smile.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. It... was regrettable. But anyway, after the war I searched for them here and upon finding them, brought a healer to consult. He told me that it was unlikely that they would be able to regain their memories. If they did, it would take much time and observation. I've been working with the healers here but there had been very little luck until a month ago. So anyway, that's the situation."

She nodded and turned to open the door before anyone could ask any questions.

"Oh, Hermione! Come sit down next to me!"

Granger hurried over and sat in the chair next to her mother.

The room was empty except for one other bed, an old woman who seemed asleep. _Where's her father?_ Her mother seemed to be about the same height and build as Granger. She had the same wild hair but she seemed to have managed to learn to control it a bit better.

"Hermione, please introduce me to your friends," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Er. Yes. This is Draco Malfoy and his mother Narcissa. And this is one of our other classmates Theo Nott. This is my mother."

Her mother extended her hand to Draco who just happened to be the nearest. "Monica Wilkins," she screwed up her face. "Or I suppose it's really Helen Granger. Whatever you like!" she waved her hand in the air.

They exchanged pleasantries and sat down and began fixing their tea.

"So, Draco," Helen said breaking the long silence. "You go to Higwats as well?"

"Hogwarts, mum."

She waved her hand again. "All these names are so silly. Anyway, you and Hermione are friends from school?"

Friends was a loose interpretation of the term. _Why yes, Mrs. Granger, we're great friends. In our first year I tried to get her expelled for helping the gamekeeper smuggle a dragon out of the school. In our second year I called her a slur and insinuated that she'd be the next one to be murdered. In our third year she slapped me. Fourth year I tormented her and helped a dirty gossip columnist slander her name. Fifth Year I helped that lunatic Ministry woman try to expel her and torture her. And at the end of the year my father tried to kill her. Sixth year I mostly laid off tormenting her, but only because I was busy plotting the murder of our headmaster. And, of course, let's not forget last year when I watched her get tortured by my deranged aunt on the floor of my family's drawing room._

"We're in the same year."

"They're partners in class this year," Theo piped up from across the room looking casually innocent, picking at his nails. Draco wondered if he could use wandless magic to hit him with avada kedavera from here.

"Oh, how wonderful!" Helen cooed. "You must be very bright. Only the best for my Hermione!"

Draco's mother positively beamed.

"And you, Theodore? Are you a friend too? I have heard so many stories about Hermione's friends and I am just delighted to meet them. Though, in my memories, foggy as they may be, I remember a lot of red hair?"

Theo snorted. No doubt it was the implication that he was a Weasley, Draco thought. "No, ma'am. Granger and I are merely acquaintances. But her reputation is unmatched. It's an honor to meet you." He bowed his head at her slightly. Draco rolled his eyes. His mother was glaring at him. Apparently she was embarrassed that Theo was showing more manners and flattery than him.

"And Narcissa," his mother politely turned her gaze to the woman. "What do you do in the magical world? I must admit I'm very curious!"

"Oh, my husband has always been the politician. I run our house and do some charity work. Though, I consider my gardens my occupation these days. It's the only thing I'll get my hands dirty for!" she lilted at her joke.

"That's wonderful! Wendell and I just love gardening. This year we..." she and Narcissa launched into a long conversation about flora and fauna. Granger looked between the two of them. Theo looked bored. Draco tried to keep his face impassive. He only allowed himself to look at the clock five times.

"What about you two young men?" Draco startled at being addressed. "What do you plan to do after graduation? Any interests or activities outside of school?"

_Doesn't she know who I am? Well Mrs. Granger, you could say I had a bit of an internship with the darkest wizard ever to grace Britain. It wasn't paid, but he did decide to let me live after I botched my term project. I suppose if he was alive he'd give me a glowing recommendation._

"I play chess and Quidditch."

"And he's read almost as much of the Hogwarts library as Granger has!" Theo interjected again.

"Oh how lovely! I remember Hermione trying to teach Wendell how to play that magical moving and talking chess game that she got from a friend for Christmas. I daresay, she never got the hang of it. Do you still play together often?"

"Oh, mum, that's Ron you're thinking of. And, no, we don't play anymore. He's given up on me in that respect, I think."

 _So the Weasel was good at chess._ He'd expected that chess would be something that Granger would be good at. But he supposed that she was a bit too hot headed for that. Though he'd never expected Weasley had the stomach for delayed gratification.

"Well, still. I bet you enjoy watching your friends play!"

There was an awkward silence.

"Malfoy and Ron don't... they're in different friend groups."

_Yes, Granger. You and the rest of the Gryffingods restored order to our broken country and have a holiday named after you. Me and my friends were raised to hate everything you believe in._

A flash of something like understanding flashed over Mrs. Granger's eyes and it made Draco very uncomfortable. Either Hermione had told her parents about him and his various abuses over the years, or she'd deduced that Draco and his family was on the opposite side of the war – or both. Either scenario was awkward

"So you play that weird sport too then?" Mrs. Granger had seemed to decide it would be safer to move on to another topic. Draco nodded in response. "Either all of the boys at that school play that sport or my Hermione has quite the nose for handsome quibbige players!"

Hermione actually buried her face in her hands, "Mummmmmm." He could tell that her face had turned a brilliant shade of pink. It would have been mildly amusing if not for the implication.

"Oh, ma'am, we're not..."

"Draco and I aren't _dating_ ," she said imploringly, shooting Draco a pleading look that said _I didn't put her up to this._ "I'm... with Ron now."

Mrs. Granger waved her hand again. "Oh, well it's so hard to keep track. First there was that boy from Bulgaria who was far too old for you. And then you're always talking about Harry and you said he was some progeny. And you went to that Christmas party with that other boy from your house. And then you said Ron made the team a couple years ago and now I've gotten to meet a fourth dashing player of this mystery sport." She gestured to Draco.

"MUM!" Granger implored at her mother.

"What? I'm just trying to get information. It's not my fault that I now know more about this boy sitting in front of me than I do the boy you're apparently dating and spent half a year living with!"

Granger clenched her jaw. "Fine. I will give you details on Ron later. Malfoy and I have known each other since First Year but have never been close. We haven't always gotten along, but this year we've been working together on a few projects. We are partners in Herbology and I am helping him with an extracurricular project with Hagrid. Yes, he also plays Quidditch for Slytherin House-"

"Are you a goalie too?" Mrs. Granger asked Draco. Draco didn't know what that meant.

Granger sighed heavily. "No, he's a Seeker. That's what Harry and Viktor play. The one that catches the little golden ball." She rubbed her temples. "Ron is a Keeper. That's like the goalkeeper."

"Oh so have your boyfriends played against each other?"

Granger stared open mouthed at her mother. "Mum. Malfoy and I have not ever been anything more than acquaintances. I'm not. He isn't. We're just friends okay?" She stuttered, looking around the room for help. Theo was doubled over in silent fits of laughter. Draco was carefully counting the tiles above Granger's head. His mother was politely sipping her tea, smirking slightly.

"Okay fine, I'll stop." She winked at Narcissa. "Mothers just have to go to great lengths to get information out of their children, you know." Narcissa raised her cup ever so slightly at Mrs. Granger. "Anyway, I was just curious about how you've become friends with the boy who you used to complain about so much." She raised a pointed eyebrow at Granger whose jaw set even further.

"You said you didn't remember me saying anything about him," she hissed, eyes wide with horror.

Her mother picked up a large book next to her bed. "Oh, well, you know what the doctors said... Memory loss is a tricky and unpredictable thing..." she winked. "Now! Would you boys like to look through some old family photos? I'm certain there are a few in there of Hermione as a girl..."

"OH MY GOD. I think they actually need to get going." She looked pointedly at Draco. "We wouldn't want to keep you."

Draco, thinking this was the best idea since self-spelling wands, rose.

"Oh, but Draco, I've barely started on my tea!" Theo said sarcastically.

"I'll buy you more later.

"Oh you have to be going so soon?" Mrs. Granger said disappointed. Granger was already almost to the door, getting ready to hold it open for them.

"I do think we've trespassed on your hospitality for far too long already," his mother said. "I'm sure you and your daughter have a lot to catch up on." His mother reached her hand out to shake the muggle's. "If you ever return to England, please do have Hermione reach out. I would be delighted to show you my gardens at the Manor."

_What? Did I miss the part where they became best friends?_

"Oh how lovely!" Mrs. Granger cooed. "Thank you for the invitation. It was wonderful to meet all three of you. I do hope I'll see you again soon!"

_Unlikely._

"Well we'll be here tomorrow for the gala. Maybe I'll get here early and take you up on you offer of the photo album," Theo winked. Draco groaned. He saw a slight glimmer of curiosity cross Mrs. Granger's face.

"Oooo a gala? How fancy."

"Yes, Draco donated a large research sum to the hospital and they are naming a wing after him at tomorrow's Christmas gala. That's why we're in this corner of the world."

Draco heard Granger's breath catch as she looked nervously at her mother. _Ah, so you didn't tell her about my special contribution. Not to worry Granger, my mother doesn't know about that part._

"How generous!" Mrs Granger grasped his hand. "Not many young men would be so charitable with their money. Your parents must be ever so proud."

_Yep. Mother is using this the first step in my reintroduction to society and as my father is serving a life sentence in Azkaban, he'll never know – which is for the best as I'm sure he'd see it as a disgrace. Especially the secret part._

His mother positively beamed at him and fondled his hair as though he were a small child. He rolled his eyes, moving towards the door.

"Yes, I don't think a mother could have been as lucky as me. Though, I daresay you must feel the same."

Draco caught Granger's eye. He was happy to see that she seemed equally disgusted by the show their mothers were putting on.

"Well, when we ran into Ms. Granger in the hallway I decided to invite her to the gala." Granger's eyes went wide. "Of course, we would be honored to have you both attend."

"Oh I'm in no fit shape to get dressed up. Plus my bedtime is very early these days." Foolishly Draco thought they'd get away unscathed. He was wrong. "But I'm sure Hermione would be delighted to attend!"

Granger's eyes widened further, giving her the look of a terrified and incensed doe.

"Oh, Mrs. Malfoy, that's very generous but I have plans."

Mrs. Granger scoffed. "What plans? Eating bland hospital food with me and then falling asleep in front of the fire with some ungodly long novel before 9?"

Granger's mouth fell open and she actually stamped her foot. "Oh my god Mum!"

Her mother just shrugged.

Granger crossed her arms and steeled her face at her mother as if to say "make me."

_Big mistake. Don't you know that resistance only gives them more energy, Granger?_

"Oh, Hermione, dear, don't be insolent. It would be fun and I know you don't get out enough as it is. And besides," she arranged her face into a desperately sad expression, "I never did get to help you get ready for a school formal, seeing as I physically am not permitted inside that school of yours. All I got was a tiny photograph of that ball from your Fourth Year."

Granger rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'll let you dress me up for the next holiday party or charity ball you and dad get invited to."

"Oh, it's just not the same..."

_And the piece de resistance..._

"And it's utterly heartbreaking to think that I almost lost out on any future opportunities given the memory spell. To think I would have missed so many formal events and possibly even your wedding..." She dabbed her suspiciously dry eye and stared off into space theatrically.

 _All women should be automatically resorted into Slytherin once they become mothers._ Once the guilt parade was put on he knew that there'd be no escape for either of them.

Granger made a small squeak of disbelief and seemed to be having a silent conversation with her mother. Finally she closed her eyes and turned back to his mother. "Mrs. Malfoy," she shot a look of apology and desperation at Draco. "That would be lovely. Thank you for the invitation."

His mother made a dignified squeak of excitement. "Taffy!" His mother's personal house elf popped into the room. He smirked at the look of horror on Granger's face and the look of confusion and shock on her mother's. "Please run into Hariborus Square and pick out a selection of gowns for Ms. Granger," she gestured at Granger, "and have them delivered to her as soon as possible. Hermione, dear, would you like me to arrange for someone to come and do your hair and makeup as well."

He could have almost laughed at the blank look of confusion on Granger's face.

"Um, none of that is necessary. I'll simply transfigure something."

"Oh, nonsense, dear." His mother waved her hand as though this was a preposterous suggestion. "It's a gala! You deserve to feel special!"

"Oh, it would be such fun to have a little fashion show Hermione! I'm sure Doctor Marcos would allow us to use one of the private rooms! I can do your hair!"

"Ugh okay _fine_! Thank you for your generosity, Mrs. Malfoy. I will be happy to reimburse you for whichever dress I end up with."

_Yeah, I'd like to see you try._

His mother clasped her hands together as though this was the most amazing thing that had ever happened. "Well I'll leave you to it! I will owl over the pertinent details and Draco will come up here and pick you up so that he can escort you downstairs tomorrow evening.

Draco thought this was entirely unnecessary and he was sure that Granger did as well. But he didn't argue. This long under his mother's care had taught him that there were certain things not worth fighting.

They exchanged another round of pleasantries and the three of them finally left, leaving Granger looking stunned and annoyed and her mother looking wistful and victorious.

* * *

**See you next time!**


	22. Who Even Wears Velvet Anymore?

**Author's Note:**

I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, we'd have more examples of Uncle Vernon hilariously mispronouncing things.

* * *

**Chapter 22: Who Even Wears Velvet Anymore?**

* * *

**Saturday, December 19**

**Hermione**

Hermione stared at the door as it closed. How had everything gone so wrong? Five hours ago, her international portkey had landed her in the Australian Ministry office. She had traveled to the inn to check in and came here. They'd had a long talk, and while her mother was still upset about the situation she said that she wanted to try to move forward, especially since she'd have to help her father through the transition. After they both decided it was time to actually catch up and not shed any more tears, her mother had asked for tea and she had went out to get it. Thirty minutes later she was listening to her mom talk about what hairstyles would look best for tomorrow night, trying to ignore the ringing in her ears.

How had she never asked Malfoy when the infamous gala was? Truthfully, she'd forgotten about it. If she hadn't then she would never have believed he'd actually agree to attend. And now she had to go to another stuffy dance.

_So much for a low-key visit._

"Well, that was just lovely, wasn't it Hermione?" her mother asked innocently.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, the way you orchestrated it all was very impressive."

"Oh nonsense. You're young, you should have a bit of fun!"

"A night out with the Malfoys is not exactly what I call fun, mum."

"And why exactly is that? I'd like to know more about the situation." she gestured between Hermione and the door.

"What's there to know?" Hermione said, trying to nonchalantly pluck debris off of the comforter.

"Oh stop being difficult," her mum scolded. "I have hazy memories of you telling me about a horrid blonde boy from a stuck-up rich family teasing you in class. Now a _handsome_ blonde young man from a _traditional_ wealthy family just happens upon our doorstep. And for as much as you say to hate him, you seemed on friendly terms!"

"Well, I can assure you, he's still horrid and the Malfoys are still stuck up."

"They seemed perfectly nice to me. Wonderful manners!"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure it's all a ruse."

"Do you _like_ him?"

"MUM! For the last time, Draco and I are _not_ involved! I. am. With. Ron!" She crossed her arms angrily.

"But Draco is so tall! And his hair is so distinctive!"

"Ron is taller," she grumbled obstinately. "And red hair is even more rare than blonde," she said stubbornly.

Her mother was the one to roll her eyes this time. "Well bring _him_ next time and I'll have something else to gush about. It's not my fault you've only introduced me to two of your friends and they both happen to be dashing boys you're absolutely not dating."

"I didn't plan to introduce you to Malfoy. He just happened to be here. I was even less thrilled than he was."

"To-MAY-to, to-MAY-to..." her mother hummed, thumbing through the photo album.

They chatted for a while, finishing their tea. Her mother was doing so much better than she was the last time. She thought back to the scared, vacant, angry, and confused face of her mother the last time she'd seen her. But she seemed fairly content for the time being. Hermione supposed that might change when they got their visitation with her father a bit later.

After telling her about her semester and cautiously reminiscing together, her mother began musing about tomorrows gala.

"...and Narcissa seems like a woman with exquisite taste. I'm sure the gowns she's going to send for you will be to die for!"

"It really isn't necessary. It's not a fashion show. I'd really rather not go."

"Well, since you are, you may as well look incredible! Not that you don't always, but it doesn't hurt to shine up a bit once in a while." She patted Hermione's frizzy hair. The ocean air was not doing her any favors. "And besides, I suspect Narcissa will send some very high-end gowns. It would be a shame to waste the opportunity!"

Hermione didn't doubt this. She was afraid of it. She didn't like the idea of owing the Malfoys anything. And the suspected that the price of the gowns Narcissa would normally acquire would make her nauseated.

She excused herself on the pretense of going to the restroom. She thought she had heard them saying something about paperwork. She hoped that she'd be able to catch them while they were still in the hospital.

She was starting to loose hope as she wound her way through the administrative halls of the hospital. She'd had to drop the names of herself, Harry, and (to her great annoyance) Malfoy. Finally she found herself in front of a desk of a woman who reminded her much of Professor McGonagall. She had to say "Excuse me" twice before the woman looked up from her filing. After a lot of pleading, name dropping, and persistence, she learned that the Malfoys had just left down the lift to be escorted out of the building. She ran down the stairs two at a time and reached the foyer out of breath.

She spotted them with Monsieur Dubois just at the entrance. They were shaking hands. She hurried up to them and cleared her throat.

"Ms. Granger!" Monsieur Dubois bowed to her and she noticed that Malfoy looked annoyed.

"Apologies, sir, I didn't mean to interrupt," she said, gasping for breath.

"Nonsense! I was just seeing Lady Malfoy and young Mr. Malfoy out." She noticed Theo roll his eyes. The muggle phrase, "and what am I? Chopped liver?" came to mind.

"Did you need something dear?" Narcissa asked.

"I... er... I just needed to speak to Mal-Draco quickly." She gestured at him and he cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh! Well Theodore and I will just wait over here with Monsieur Dubois. I'm sure he'd love to know more about the pre-healer curriculum at Hogwarts." Theo glared at Malfoy as though this was his fault. She felt a tad guilty. Theo seemed like a decent guy and based on her limited experience, no one should be forced to spend a second longer with the ass kissing hospital administrator more than necessary.

Draco gestured over to the window. She followed.

"Well?" he demanded.

"Hm?"

"You summoned me? Have you come down to tell me that you are refusing the invitation after all? Telling me because you're afraid of my mother? That's not very Gryffindor, you know."

"No." She rolled her eyes. "I believe that's a battle that was won before I was even born."

He nodded and huffed as though he understood. "Well?"

"Um, I'm... I came to ask about the gowns your mother is... procuring for me."

"Yes?"

"Well, I think you know that I think it's absolutely ludicrous that she would do that. You of all people know of my skills with Transfiguration and Charms and I could more than adequately put together a dress suitable for the occasion. Besides, if your mother is worried that I'll embarrass her with my sense of style, I assure you that while I'm not magical nobility or anything I certainly know how to clean myself up and act like a proper lady when the time comes for it. And anyway, if she was that worried, she shouldn't have even invited me. But all of that is to say that there is absolutely no need for her elf to go to all that trouble. I'm sure that she was enjoying some time away from that oversized coffin you call a house here where there's actually sun and warm weather and a break from all the godforsaken rain and now she's being forced to wander around magical Brisbane finding dresses for a girl that hates wearing them."

"Granger-"

"No, I know, _she insists_. I absolutely do not wish to accept but from the little I know of her, it seems she and my mother have a bit in common, including their ability to force their children into doing what they don't want. So I have resigned myself to the fact that I will be wearing a dress your mother procures for me. But what I've come to say. Ask. No, _demand_ is that the dresses she sends be reasonable in price."

"Granger!"

"I know you and your family have absolutely no concept of money but I come from an middle upper-class family. I certainly never wanted for anything, but I wasn't spoiled nor did I get everything handed to me. I know the value of a pound, or galleon or whatever and I certainly don't intend to stop caring about a budget now. I have plans, you know. For after Hogwarts. I have always imagined attending muggle university. I had thought about delaying it for a while but I'm quite tired of all the 'Golden Trio' attention and nonsense. And while the few applications I have sent have resulted in scholarships, there's more expenses to university than just tuition. I have a long road ahead of me and I do intend to either work in government or for some social service organization and they do not typically pay very well. And now that my parents have started to regain their memories they've decided to sell their house in London so I'll have to find a place after-"

"GRANGER!"

"Sorry - Anyway... though I don't have many expenses now, I certainly don't want to blow all of my savings on a silly dress for a silly event which I don't even want to attend. And of course, I intend on reimbursing her. I know she said not to, but that's why I've come to talk to you. I know she won't accept it, but you will. I'll make sure of it. You'll accept it and make sure it gets deposited in her bank account. She doesn't have to know, but _I will_. And as I'm not rolling in gold like you are, I've come to tell you that you will ensure that the dresses she sends are within my price range."

"Are you done now?"

She realized that she'd been rambling. It annoyed immensely her that he looked amused.

She took a deep breath. "I think so, yes."

"Alright, well, first I'd like to protest that the Manor is not an oversized coffin, but I don't think that's the crux of the point here," Malfoy said, raising an eyebrow.

"It is a coffin. But no, it's not the time."

"And furthermore, I'm fascinated to learn more about you. I believe I've learned more about you in this one nervous rant than I have in almost eight years of school."

"Well... Well, whatever."

"What makes you think I'd agree to this arrangement?" he said, leaning against the wall in that arrogant nonchalance he had perfected.

She tried her best to emulate it. "Well, I do remember a story involving you, your greasy haired godfather, and an angry white peacock. I think Theo might be interested to hear it. I know I found it particularly amusing."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I only told you that because you were three sheets to the wind and I wanted to hear the story of how you broke your arm."

She shrugged. "Well it's not my fault I can hold my liquor better than you thought I could."

"Blackmail and deciet, Granger? We might make a Slytherin out of you yet." She raised an eyebrow at him defiantly. "Besides, what makes you think Theo would care?"

"Well, if he doesn't, I bet the rest of Slytherin House would."

"And you think they'd believe you?"

She sighed and looked at the ceiling for dramatic effect. "Well, they probably wouldn't. But they'd believe Blaise." He narrowed his eyes at her. "I'll tell Ginny. I assume you know that he snuck Ginny into Slytherin multiple times Fifth Year? Well they're still friendly and she'd _love_ to hear all those juicy details."

Before he could school his face into a nonchalant expression she saw his eyes flash and she knew she had won. "Assuming I accept your terms, what price point did you have in mind?"

"35 galleons."*

"Are you fucking kidding?"

"No."

"I can't even buy a decent tie for that."

"Well, the fact that you don't know how to bargain shop isn't my problem."

"Seriously, Granger. I can _maybe_ convince my mother to do off the rack and not couture. But I cannot convince her to buy a dress that cheap. Her lowest will be at least 450 galleons. 300, _maybe_ if I buy her an extra special gift to give her at the time of the request."

It was worse than she expected. Their ideas of "cost effective" were from completely different worlds.

"300? Absolutely not. Unacceptable," she scoffed. "That's an egregious amount of money for a dress for one night."

"Who knows, maybe you'll get to wear it again," he smirked.

"Oh shut up. You know I'll likely never wear it again. If anything, I'll donate it to the second hand shop next time in Diagon."

"You'd donate a couture gown?" he hissed.

"Well it won't be couture," she hissed back. "Off the rack, remember?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Fine. I think we can get something acceptable for 250."

"75."

"Seriously?" he threw his hands up in the air. "200."

She rolled her eyes. "100."

He studied her. She could tell she was winning. Until... Until a smirk unlike anything she'd ever seen crossed his face.

"250-"

"That's not how negotiating works!"

He put a finger to her lips to shush her. "250 AND I make an anonymous donation to have the stables and greenhouse built for Hagrid that he wanted."

 _Shit._ I'm _not winning_ He _is._

"C'mon, Granger. You'll look fabulous. You can even sell the gown later to one of the Patil twins or some Hufflepuff bint and make some of your money back. And Hagrid will get all that ridiculous stuff he wants. And you can't really put a price on his happiness can you?"

She glared back at him. They were almost nose to nose now. Her heart sank. He had won and he damn well knew it.

"Well? Going once..."

"FINE!" She stomped her foot. "Fine. You win."

"I wasn't aware it was a competition, Granger."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh shove it you asshole."

"Such language from a girl who assures me she's a lady." His eyes were positively twinkling with enjoyment. He was the world's biggest prat. "Any requests you'd like me to pass on to Taffy?"

"Huh?"

"Colors, styles? For the gown."

She hadn't even thought of this. "Uh... nothing too... ostentatious."

"Ostentatious?"

"Yes, anything you think is in good taste is probably awful."

He rolled his eyes. "I have excellent taste, Granger."

She grumbled.

"Well, if that's all, I think I have a bit of shopping to do." He winked and turned on his heel to head out the door. As he, his mother, and Theo exited the hospital he called over his shoulder, "7:30, Granger. Don't be late."

_What a fucking prat._

* * *

**Sunday, December 20**

**Draco**

"Draco! Wake Up!"

He groaned and rolled over.

Someone flung the covers off of him and wrenched open the blinds.

"Draco," his mother sang. "It's half past eight! High time to get up!"

"Yes, well I just went to sleep four hours ago!" he groaned.

"It's not my fault you stayed up all night drinking with Theodore. You should have gone to bed early to adjust to the time difference."

"I _tried_." he grumbled. "Drinking _was_ our way of trying to fall asleep."

She sent him a withering look. "That's what dreamless sleep potion is for."

"Yes, well, Firewhiskey is so much more fun."

She tossed a pair of linen sacks and a button down shirt at him. "Get dressed. Taffy is here with the gowns for Ms. Granger and I want you to help me pick out which ones to send her."

"No, mother. I'm not doing that." He turned over.

"Stop being a child. You have 20 minutes or Taffy will come in here and dress you herself."

"Mother, just send her whatever you've picked out. She's going to hate it all anyway." He pressed the pillow over his face.

"She was perfectly grateful. In fact, last night when she owled me her measurements she told me that she couldn't wait to see the gowns I'd picked out for tonight."

_I doubt that's exactly what she said._

"Doesn't she know magical gowns size themselves to the witch?"

"Well apparently not. But it was very thoughtful for her to owl."

He grumbled something inaudible.

She used her wand to cast a cooling spell on him. "Hey!" he exclaimed.

"Get up, Draco!"

"Will Theo be joining us?" If he had to suffer, Theo could too. The Firewhiskey had been his idea, after all.

"No. I thought the poor boy could use a lie in. He looks so tired these days."

"So it's just me you're torturing?"

"You are Ms. Granger's friend and therefore know her style much better than I do. You will help me."

"I'm not her friend," he said stubbornly. "And what makes you think I've paid enough attention to her to know anything about her style?"

She actually smacked him upside the head. "Well you've been complaining about her morning, noon, and night for nearly eight years now. It's fair to assume you know _something_ about her. And besides, your etiquette classes will have seen to that. I am certain you will help me pick out a wonderful selection. Now GET UP." She slammed a book on the table. He winced.

"Can I at least have a hangover potion? Or a pepper up potion?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. If you drink to excess you deserve the consequences."

"That's what Granger says too."

"Well I _knew_ I liked her!" She strode to the door. "You now have," she checked her watch, "17 minutes."

"Yeah, yeah."

"And take a shower," she yelled over her shoulder, "you smell like a tavern."

After the door slammed shut he counted to 100 before forcing himself out of bed. He'd had the pleasure of his mother's elf dressing him before and it hadn't been an experience he wished to repeat.

Nineteen minutes later, he was hurriedly buttoning his shirt and rushing down the hall to the lounge area where he heard his mother's voice. He also smelled food, which was a welcome scent. If there was one thing more thrown off than his sense of time be being in this godforsaken land, it was his stomach.

"Draco, how nice of you to join us."

"I'm on time mother."

She glared at him. "Barely."

"Well I'm here now." he poured himself some tea and grabbed a chocolate croissant. He was about to bite down when it was yanked from his hands. "Hey!"

"Go wash your hands. We are figuring out the gowns first and then you can eat. You certainly can't be handling them with greasy fingers. They are couture after all."

He rolled his eyes. Of course they were couture. He'd asked his mother to go easy, but he hadn't really expected her to reign it in at all. What Granger didn't know wouldn't hurt her. He doubted she'd be able to tell the difference between a 200 galleon gown and a 2,000 galleon gown anyway. He wasn't about to get on his mother's wrong side solely because of her precious pride.

After scourgifying his hands he went to investigate the gowns.

"Just how many did Taffy bring?"

"She brought 80, but I've already narrowed it down to 30 or so," she said as though this was a great feat. "They really have questionable taste down here where it's never cold." She narrowed her eyes at a group of racks in the corner.

' _So Draco, how was your holiday?' 'Oh, it was great! My mother turned me into a personal stylist for an insufferable swot who didn't even appreciate it._

"Well why don't you go through and pick out any you hate right away."

He rolled his eyes and made his way through the racks. As he expected, they were heinously expensive gowns. He suspected she was excited to dress a girl. She'd always made sure he looked his best but he expected that picking out wizard dress robes wasn't the same excitement as it was to shop for a witch. She'd helped Pansy pick out her dress robes for the Yule Ball but Pansy's taste and his mother's taste didn't exactly align. He'd had to endure hours of complaints from both of them after the affair. He shuddered. Thank _god_ the marriage negotiations had never worked out between his father and Mr. Parkinson.

He flipped through the racks, internally commenting on the absurdity of all of them. So much chiffon and tulle and sequins and glitter. Honestly, did witches these days have no taste? And velvet?* Did anyone other than vampires actually wear velvet anymore?

"Mother, did you even attempt to restrain yourself? You know Granger was uncomfortable about the whole price thing."

She grimaced at him. "Well, yes, Draco, I did. Taffy had to work very hard to find some things off the rack. Unfortunately the... taste is a bit lacking so I disqualified them already." She motioned towards a couple racks in the corner.

He went over to investigate. Indeed, they did leave something to be desired. _Sequins_ and _velvet? Really? What is this world coming to? Bright red with lace cutouts?_ He wrinkled his nose before heading back over to the pricier gowns.

They really were so much better. He began absentmindedly pointing to a few here and there and Taffy levitated them over to another rack. After a few minutes, his mother reappeared sporting the most ridiculous hat and oversized sunglasses he'd ever seen, a beach bag perched in the crook of her arm.

"Well, I'm off to meet Sofia. Please finish up quickly so that Taffy can get these over to Hermione."

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

"I am meeting Sofia at her beach chateau for brunch," she said plainly.

"You can't seriously leave me with all of this shit!"

"Language, Draco. And I most certainly can. Just pick out five or so gowns and you can get back to lazing around and nursing your hangover like an overgrown man child."

"But-"

"No, that's my final word. You might as well get used to this kind of thing. It's a very romantic gesture. I used to love when I came home to a new dress or something from your father, knowing he'd thought about how it would look on me or-"

"Yeah, yeah alright. Just don't finish that sentence."

She swooped in and kissed him on the cheek, ruffled his hair, and was out the door.

Taking the opportunity to eat undisturbed he reached over to the pile of pastries but Taffy was there in an instant.

"Taffy is sorry Master Draco but Mistress said you are not to eat until you've picked out the gowns! Can I fetch Master some tea?"

She was looking up at Draco with wide fearful eyes. He dramatically threw himself into one of the chairs and sulked until Taffy brought him back some tea.

Finally, resigning himself to his fate he slumped over to the dresses. _Just get it over with._

With Taffy nowhere to be found and his wand still in his room he was forced to carry the gowns around the room.

"Oh why Draco, I didn't know you had changed your color palate for the evening. I'm afraid now my dress robes won't match!" Theo was smirking at him devouring a cheese Danish.

"Shove it."

"Touchy, touchy. What is all this?"

"I have to pick out a selection of dresses for Granger."

Theo used his wand to pilfer through the dresses. "Ugh, why is there so much velvet?"

"I don't know. It's disgusting. Granger requested that the dress be under 200 galleons so I had to tell mother to get some off the rack."

Theo clutched his chest dramatically.

"Could you... put on some clothes please Nott?"

Theo was wearing only boxers and an untied dressing robe.

"I'm comfortable."

"Yes, well it's not very appropriate for you to be prancing around mother like this."

"Worried she'll see me and decide to make me your new daddy?" He waggled his eyebrows and jumped out of the way as Draco lunged at him. "Oh relax you prude. I heard her leave."

"Well at least tie your robe. You'll offend Taffy. She's older than god and very old fashioned."

He rolled his eyes but did as requested.

"So you have to pick out one of these heinous dresses for Granger to wear tonight?"

"Yes."

"Ugh. She should be punished. It's gonna be a real Sophie's choice."

"What?"

"Oh honestly, Draco, you should get out into the muggle world sometime."

"Whatever."

 _She_ should _be punished that little..._ And then he then got a wicked idea.

* * *

**Hermione**

At 5 PM Hermione made her way through the hospital to her mother's room. When she entered, her mother had tea and a light dinner waiting for her.

"Hi mum!"

"Oh, Hermione, I'm so excited you're here!"

"Where's Mrs. Antolli?"

"She's in a private room for the evening. I had requested it of Dr. Marcos, but when I saw it, it was so small I didn't think we'd really have enough room. So Mrs. Antolli offered to hang out in there while we're getting you ready so we can have some privacy."

Hermione didn't think that was really necessary, but she wasn't going to argue.

"What's all this?"

"Oh one of the nurses-"

"Mum, they're all healers."

"Well one of the junior ones always has the most fabulous hair and makeup so I asked if she would mind picking up a few supplies for us. I know you barely even wear mascara, so I didn't think you'd have any and I didn't think you'd make things any easier on me." Hermione narrowed her eyes and helped herself to Caesar salad and garlic bread, not the least bit concerned with how her breath would smell. "Anyway when I told her you were going to the gala tonight she was so excited she went home and came back with all sorts of makeups and hair tools! She said they need magic to be turned on and as long as you didn't leave me in the room with them while they're hot I'm free to use them to make you look like the magical princess you are inside!"

 _Great. As always, mothers know their children far too well._ Hermione had, indeed, planned on being unhelpful. She had brought her very small makeup bag and only some pins for her hair.

"I want it subtle, mum."

Her mother hummed to herself and picked up the box of makeup. "I just can't believe all of this stuff! I thought you'd been spoiling me with that magical toothpaste all these years but now I see that you've been holding out on me! Eyeshadow that doesn't ever crease! And false eyelashes that perfectly mold to your eye! And lipstick that doesn't come off without a special remover! I didn't believe it until Heidi showed me. See?" she frantically rubbed her lips and the deep burgundy Hermione hadn't even realized her mother was wearing stayed perfectly intact. "Can you imagine?! Not having to reapply even through eating and drinking and..." she nudged Hermione, " _snogging_."

"Well there will be no snogging tonight so I'd say it's fairly unnecessary."

"Oh no, it's quite necessary. Besides, I want to try it all out so that I can decide what I like. Heidi said she'll make a list and you can go into Haribo Square-"

"Hariborus Square. Not Haribo. Not like the gummy bears."*

"Well, no matter. She said she'd make you a list and you could pick it all up and it can be my Christmas present! I know you haven't done your shopping yet."

Hermione was torn with annoyance for having to spend time in the magical beauty store she always avoided and being thankful that she didn't have to wander aimlessly around magical (or muggle) Brisbane to find a gift. She'd always found her mother hard to shop for.

"Fine. But it still needs to be subtle. I can't stand wearing all that crap on my face and besides, I want to look like myself."

"Of course dear. But you'd know this if you ever bothered with it but makeup doesn't have to turn you into something else, if that's not what you want. It's can simply enhance your natural beauty. And you have plenty of that, sweetheart." Her mother patted her hair and Hermione's heart soared. She'd forgotten what it felt like to have her mother casually touch her in a maternal way. As soon as it soared, her heart sank. It was her fault she was surprised at the gesture. It was her fault it had taken over a month for her mother to act like she trusted her.

"Whatever you're overthinking, cut it out," her mother lilted. "This is supposed to be fun! Now, let's take a look at these gowns Narcissa sent over!"

She motioned to the corner where a rack of gowns in garment bags hung.

"Now! You can try them on over there behind the privacy screen. I had one of the orderlies set it up as well as convinced him to enlarge the hand mirror in the washroom so that you can see yourself full length. I also complained about the lighting so he came up with an ingenious solution of turning one of the light fixtures into a more warm and natural light." Hermione laughed to herself as her mother continued telling her about all the ways she'd turned the sad hospital room into a posh salon. "Hurry up love! We have to pick out the dress first so that we can do your makeup accordingly."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione went over to the rack and started opening up the bags. She was immediately horrified. Not only did she suspect they'd gone over the agreed budget, but they seemed to be completely out of her style.

"Oh look at them!" Her mother cooed hopping up and coming over to look at the dresses. "They're just spectacular! Look at all that detail!"

Hermione thought they all looked like a craft store had thrown up on them, but she wasn't going to burst her mother's bubble. Before she knew it, a fluffy lilac dress was being shoved in her arms and she was being guided behind the privacy screen. After zipping it up, Hermione assessed the situation. It was the biggest dress she'd ever seen. A sickly-sweet lavender color it had a heinously full skirt, covered in layers and layers of tulle encrusted with pearls and crystals.

"Come on outttt!" her mother sang.

Cursing she maneuvered out into the open which was difficult given the size of the dress. Her mother cooed over it, but ultimately agreed that it was perhaps a "bit much and the color was wrong, especially for Christmastime." _Yes, the color is the real issue with it_ , she thought bitterly drowning in layers of tulle as she nearly broke a sweat, trying to extricate herself from it.

Next was a slinky black velvet gown which she hadn't thought was terrible until she noticed the high white ruffled collar and red hem details. Her mother had said it was "interesting." "I look like Dracula mother! And who even wears velvet anymore?!" she'd retorted.

Third was a green gown with a structured sweetheart neckline. Hermione had thought she quite liked it, despite it being a bit too Golden Age Hollywood for her taste. Well, she liked it until she remembered it was exactly Slytherin green. _No way._

The fourth was an indigo monstrosity adorned with actual peacock feathers that extended up in the back and flared like an actual peacock tail. She had refused, point blank to try it on.

The fifth was a skintight fire engine red dress with a high slit. Actually, she didn't think it could be categorized as a slit if it went up far enough you needed special undergarments to avoid being shown off. Additionally the entire back of the dress was transparent red lace. She'd also refused to try that one on. "I'd look like a cheap hooker!"

Opening up the final bag, she prayed silently that it would be decent and that she wouldn't have to stroke Malfoy's ego by wearing his house colors.

It was a gorgeous silky navy gown with a subtle draped neckline. It was fitted enough to be alluring but loose enough to leave at least _something_ to the imagination. She also noticed that in the right light it almost glittered. She tried it on and this time her mom actually did cry.

Obviously the navy one was it.

"Shoes!" Her mother lilted, pulling out a box of strappy heels in a terribly dull beige color. "That... elf creature told me that they will change into whatever color you want. I say black or silver!"

Hermione grunted, thinking longingly of the comfortable black flats in her bag.

An hour later her mother was zipping up her gown and helping her into her shoes. She had to admit her mother had done a good job. Her hair had been curled and charmed using special magical products to hang elegantly down her back, with one side pinned back to expose her neck and ear. Her mother had restrained herself with the makeup. Hermione had just wished she'd thought to bring some jewelry with her to Australia when her mother shimmied over with a string of silver pearls and matching drop earrings.

"For you, sweetheart!"

"Oh, mum they're beautiful! I've always loved these!"

"I know! Well they're yours now! I had Taffy pop by our house and pick them up after she dropped off the gowns this morning. I hope you'll wear them often."

As her mother fastened the necklace around her neck she was even more relieved she hadn't gone with the green dress.

Dressed and ready she had nothing to do but wait. Her mother went into the bathroom to freshen up before Malfoy came to collect her. She sat on one of the chairs and tapped her foot nervously. She didn't know exactly why she was nervous. She'd been alone with Malfoy many times before. But she knew he would be absolutely unbearable tonight in all of his stubborn superiority. How long would she be expected to stay? Would there be dancing? What if there were reporters? If only she'd brought a Puking Pastille. She could duck out. Maybe she could-

There was a knock at the door. She checked the clock. 7:30 exactly.

She yanked the door open. "Malfoy."

He looked her up and down and a suspicious smirk crossed his lips. "What?" she hissed.

"Nothing. You look nice," he said. He said it relatively politely but she felt like he said it... almost like an inside joke.

"Thank you. It was nice of your mother to send over the gowns. They were... very... special." she said, the last word dripping with sarcasm.

He sauntered over to the rack and began investigating them.

"You didn't like them?"

"They... most of them weren't really my style."

"What was wrong with this one?" he said innocently, holding out the lilac gown in front of him as though it was contagious.

"Mum and I decided the color wasn't right for the season."

"Ah, but of course. And this one?"

"I didn't want anyone mistaking me for a vampire."

He smirked and raised an eyebrow holding out the red one.

"Well I honestly thought that if I turned up in that one your mother would actually uninvite me."

"That would be very rude of her."

"Yes well I'm sure even Narcissa Malfoy's manners have their limits. Though I suppose she picked out so she wouldn't mind."

"She didn't."

"What?"

"She actually rejected it but I snuck it back in the mix for my own amusement."

"You what?" she hissed.

"Yes, I had fun imagining the look of disgust on your face right now when you saw it. Theo and I laughed about it all afternoon."

She was fuming. "And the peacock monstrosity?"

He barked with laughter. "Yes, well, you know that the Malfoys are famous for our pea _cocks_." He emphasized the last syllable of the word with disgusting arrogance and she sent him a withering glare.

"I heard you had those weird albino ones," she said looking pointedly at his crotch.

" _The birds_ are rare and were my grandmother's pride and joy. It's rude to mock. Your other object of insinuation-"

"Oh well then someone alert the etiquette police on you then!" She interrupted before he could say anything else.

"Well would you have liked it better if it was..." he waved his wand and the dress changed colors, "white?"

"Ugh, no. That's worse then I'd just look like a runaway bride!"

"Perhaps I'll keep it in mind to suggest to Pansy when she eventually marries some soddingly dull aristocrat."

She huffed, looking anxiously at the bathroom. What was her mother doing? _Save me_.

"I have to say I'm disappointed you didn't go with the green one. It was my favorites of all the ones I picked out."

"Oh puh-lease, you knew full well I wasn't going to be caught dead in Sly-" Her mind screeched to a halt. "Wait?! YOU picked them all out?!"

He smirked at her and she hit him over the head with her purse.

"You are such a prat! You knew I'd hate all of them except the blue one! You did it just to torture me!"

He shrugged. "You seem to think I spend an awful lot of time considering your feelings."

"Ugh, you are just the worst. I can't believe I thought for a second your mother would have approved any of these. She has exquisite taste after all and these are honestly such..."

"A disaster?"

She almost laughed. "Ugh I've been sitting over her while mum poked and prodded at me trying to figure out how I was going to lie to her about how much I liked the choices."

He laughed. "You're the worst liar, Granger."

"Yes, well, what if your plan had backfired and you'd been forced to escort one of those around all night?" she gestured to the rejected gowns.

"Oh I would have forced you to change. I do have a reputation to uphold after all," he laughed with a horrified expression.

"Well," she strode over and picked up the velvet dress, holding it up to her as though she was wearing it. "Though, this one would match the aesthetic of your family home." She narrowed her eyes and in a horrendously bad accent said, "I vaaaant to suuuuck your bloooood."

"What the fuck was that?"

"It's... it's Dracula!"

"And Dracula is…?"

"A famous vampire from muggle pop culture."

"Well I'll have you know I've met several vampires and they are all very dignified. Never once has one threatened to drink me."

She was spared a retort as her mother flew out of the bathroom and positively drooled over Malfoy.

"Ohhhh Draco you look so dapper!" she came over, positively invading his personal space and adjusting his bowtie like she was an old family friend. "And look Hermione! His tie matches your jewelry!"

She investigated. She had to admit he looked rather good in his black dress robes with a white shirt and vest and slate silver bowtie. Though, she reminded herself, It wasn't anything special about him. All men looked better dressed up. Well, with the exception of poor Ron Fourth Year. She shuddered internally at the thought of those singed and musty dress robes.

"Well, should we be off?" she asked Draco.

"Yes, I suppose it's rude to force Theo to entertain my mother for any longer than necessary."

Her mother shrieked and they both startled. "Wait! Pictures first!"

Confused, she watched her mother rifle through a bag by her dresser, finally victoriously holding up a polaroid camera. _Ohhhhhhh nooooooooo._ Malfoy was looking at it suspiciously.

"Mum, that's really not necessary."

"Of course it is! Now stand over there and smile!"

She forced Hermione and Malfoy towards the door and looked at them expectantly. "Well? Snuggle together! Act like you like each other" she sang.

"We don't," Hermione grumbled.

"Come on, Hermione, who knows when I'll get an opportunity like this again! If you hadn't gone off to that boarding school I would have been able to dress you up for all your school formals! And just think... If your father was here to see this..." she dabbed at her eyes which looked suspiciously dry and clear to Hermione.

"Ugh. FINE. One picture." Her mother smiled triumphantly. Malfoy stood stock still next to her. As her mother raised the camera he slyly wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her into him. In quick succession, she snapped three photos. She sauntered over to them and handed one copy to each Hermione and Malfoy.

"What was that for?" she demanded of him.

"Just to annoy you," he smirked.

"It's blank." he said to her in a low voice, looking nervously at her mother as though he was afraid she was off her rocker.

"It'll develop in a few minutes. See?" she pointed at the photo which now faintly showed their outline.

"Er, well, thanks, Mrs. Granger," he said, slipping the photo in his breast pocket. "Er, would you like me to take one of you two?"

"Oh would you?" her mother cooed.

Hermione rolled her eyes as her mother showed Malfoy how to look through the lens and what button to press. He looked uncertain but told them to smile. Hermione wrapped her arm around her mother and Malfoy took pressed the button.

"Great, can we go now?"

"Well, let's wait until it develops and make sure I did it right." She was surprised that he looked a little embarrassed.

She shook the photo and huffed. "Ugh you covered the lens with your finger! See? It's all dark!"

"Isn't there a muggle phrase about breaking the camera with your face?"

She hit him.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

*I am going off of the assumption that one galleon equals about 5 pounds or 6.5USD. A 35 galleon dress would be 175 pounds or 230 USD. A 300 galleon dress would be 1,500 pounds or 2,000 USD.

*Also, no offense to anyone who likes velvet. It's just where I went with it.

*One of my absolute favorite parts of the books is in the 5th book when Uncle Vernon keeps mispronouncing dementors. Makes me chuckle to this day.

**Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans and best wishes to everybody else! Stay happy and healthy.**


	23. The Gala - Part 1

**Author's Note:** I don't own Harry Potter. Otherwise, there'd be dogs _and_ cats as magical pets.

* * *

**Chapter 23 – The Gala (Part 1)**

* * *

**Saturday, December 19 (continued)**

**Draco**

Finally, after approximately ten more photos, a hundred huffs and heavy sighs each from Draco and Granger, and a thousand hugs from Mrs. Granger, they were released.

Granger kept trying to convince her mother that she would come up and say goodnight before she left but her mother kept insisting that she'd be tired or "preoccupied" and that she'd see her the next day.

Finally, Draco bid Mrs. Granger goodbye and practically dragged Granger out of the room.

There was a wait for the lift as most of the hospital staff was also heading downstairs.

Granger fidgeted next to him.

"Nervous?"

She huffed.

"I don't... like being the center of attention."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm the one getting a hospital named after me, not you."

"Yes well..." she blushed. "It's... always the same."

"Ah I forgot, you're the golden girl."

She wrinkled her nose. "Well usually I'm with Harry and Ron. Harry is far more interesting and people usually gravitate towards him. And Ron... he doesn't mind the attention so I usually get to sink into the background. But..." she gestured at him.

"What?"

She sighed. "Well, you're not exactly... background material."

_Neither are you._

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Nothing! You're fine!" He raised an eyebrow at her. "Ugh you know what I meant. Your outfit is acceptable. It's just your general... the way you and your mother carry yourselves. Like you're royalty. And it will absolutely draw attention. And you're both far too polite to not introduce me and once they hear my name..."

"Won't they have already recognized you? I can't be blamed for your fame."

"Well my experience down here so far indicates they don't know my face. But they definitely know my name." She made a face. "I'm considering going by Wilkins for the rest of my time here. Most of the healers already call my mother Monica instead of Helen. Anyway, I'm prepared for it, but I don't like it."

"You don't think you deserve the accolades for your brilliance and bravery?"

She looked at him taken aback but then drew herself up. "Well obviously I understand that I am talented, but it's not what they're congratulating me for. I don't want that blood-"

He studied her as they stepped into the lift and she stopped talking abruptly as a family with two small children clambered in after them.

She reached forward to hit the button for the bottom floor but the little girl made a small squeak. She looked at the child in surprise and then a warm smile filled her face and she stepped back.

"Did you want to press the buttons sweetheart?" she asked kindly.

The little girl practically combusted with excitement. Draco guessed she was maybe three. But what did he know? He'd never interacted with children save for watching them hauled off into another room with a governess at his mother's parties.

Her father shot Granger a grateful smile and lifted the girl up and pointed to the right button. She squealed gleefully and hit the one for the bottom floor as well as six others before her father scolded her and shot an apologetic glance at the two of them.

"I push but-but!" she squealed with a pitch that made Draco's ears ring. Had Granger not started laughing and knelt down to talk to the girl and her slightly older but shy brother, Draco would have snapped at him. He didn't care for waiting. Or confined spaces.

As he watched her interact with the two small children he considered her words. Why did she feel like she was background material? If she wanted to fade into the background she'd certainly made all the wrong choices along the way. He remembered her barging into the train car on the first day searching for Longbottom's blasted toad.

_BANG_

" _What the hell?" Pansy shrieked._

_Vince accidentally inhaled the entire ice gobstopper and began coughing uncontrollably. Greg snorted and turned over. He'd always been an expert napper._

" _Excuse me, but has anyone seen a toad?"_

_A mass of brown fluff had entered the compartment and a shrill voice was demanding answers of them._

" _Well? A toad? Neville's missing one."_

_Vince was still coughing and the girl looked at him scathingly as though the fact that he was desperate for air was merely an inconvenience to her ridiculous quest._

_Draco appraised her. She was short. She had massive brown hair and huge wide brown eyes. If he were to draw it like the comics his mother once bought for him its width would have been half of her height. She had freckles on her face and very large teeth. And she was staring at him with an expectant glare that made him want to shrink into nothingness. She was already wearing her robes. They'd been on the train for less than an hour. No one changed this early. At least that's what Marcus had told him when he'd not-so-casually drilled him over the summer for information about how to fit in._

_Her presence struck him. It was completely fearless. He'd been nervous for a fortnight though he'd never admit it. Practically all his friends had talked about for the past three years had been coming to Hogwarts. As he approached his first year, it seemed that's all the adults in his life could talk about either. They all droned on about how wonderful it was and how much they missed it and how it was a wonderful time. His father had forced him to spend three hours a day that summer studying the course books. Not that he'd needed to. Draco had started reading them immediately upon Taffy depositing them in his bedroom. His mother had been prepping him on all of the other Slytherin students he was likely to meet. She even primed him on some of the other non-Slytherin pureblood children. She'd droned on and on about making friends and how the friends he made this first year (first week even) would shape his life forever. "They'll be your coworkers, bosses, and employees. Your wife as well, it's likely," she'd reminded him as she packed his trunk. It hadn't gone unnoticed by him that his mother was packing his trunk herself, without magic – something he'd rarely ever seen her do. Before stepping on the train his father had reminded him to behave and not to let anything interfere with his studies or reputation. "Remember what's at stake, Draco." His mother had sighed heavily, "Luscious! Give him a break. He'll only be a child once. He should soak up every drop of it. Besides, there's nothing he can do this year to clinch the Head Boyship you so desperately-". His father had interrupted her and narrowed his eyes at Draco. "Nothing he can do except to lose it. You know what we expect of you. You will not disappoint me." It wasn't a question but Draco nodded fervently. "Good. See you at Christmas."_

_There was a lot of pressure being the great heir of Malfoy. He'd never known anything different but it suddenly felt different. It felt like a lot of weight on his shoulders. Greg and Vince had looked at him expectantly to choose a compartment. They seemed... different. He'd expected Pansy to barge in and immediately open up her art supplies and start getting everything dirty with paints and pencils. But she'd sashayed in and demurely kissed him on the cheek (something she'd never done) and sat quietly reading a novel, crossing her ankles the way she was supposed to. She tinkled with laughter at his bad jokes rather than rolling their eyes and mocking him when he was greedy and immodest. They agreed with him and pansy cooed. It made him uneasy. Everything was suddenly different. They'd all been together in Diagon two days ago. It hadn't been like this. He'd been looking forward to ruling the school with his friends but he didn't know how much fun that would be with these three strangers._

_His father expected him to start this moment by cementing himself as the next pureblood heir. As the eventual heir of both the Malfoy and Black houses he'd amass an almost unheard-of fortune upon his wedding day. Both houses had the fewest stains of dirty blood and blood traitors of almost any other families. And apparently along with that came a great responsibility to remember everything the governess had ever told him. It suddenly felt like he was drowning. Not putting a toe out of line for seven long years? Or at least six until he was named Head Boy. He knew he was smart and disciplined but what if there was someone better? How would he explain that? Vaguely, he thought it was unfair for him to be asked to do anything more than his best, a task at which he'd yet to fail._

_And yet here was this girl who didn't seem to give a shit about anything but some stupid toad. She stared around the compartment with impatience. Pansy had told her they didn't know anything about a gross toad and told her to get out. She sent them all a scathing look and sighed heavily, rolling her eyes and storming back out of the compartment just as quickly as she'd appeared._

Granger had never been subtle. Whether it was the toad incident, her swotty recital of facts and spells before the Sorting Hat, the way she was always jumping out of her chair those first two years with her hand raised, her fierce defense of anyone defenseless, the way she had lied blatantly lying on the floor of the drawing room with blood...

He shook himself. Surely she knew how brave she was. And how much everyone adored and admired her. _Why doesn't she think she deserves it? Oh, yeah, Gryffindor._

"Are you a REAL princess?"

Granger laughed and winked at the girl, "Only in my dreams."

The girl brandished a coloring book at Draco and Granger gave him a significant look until he took it and flipped through it absentmindedly. _When do children learn to color inside the lines?_

"Sleeping Beauty is perfect! What's your favorite?" the girl squealed.

"Well, everyone thinks my favorite would be Belle because I love to read. But I think Mulan is pretty cool too." The little girl squeaked in agreement. Granger sent Draco a shy smile and he tried to replicate it. Draco assumed these were muggle things. He'd never heard of them.

The girl tugged on Granger's sleeve and looked nervously at Draco. Granger knelt back down and the girl whispered something in her ear. Granger laughed raucously and shook her head, making a face. "No, definitely not." The girl giggled up at her.

Finally, the lift doors opened. Draco handed the coloring book back to the girl, grabbed Granger's arm and towed her out of the lift as quickly as possible.

As they rounded the corner, the sound of talking and laughing voices and a string quartet flounced towards them. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Granger's step falter slightly and her speed slow down.

"It'll be fine, Granger. We'll knock back some free booze, eat dinner, sit through a few speeches, and we'll be free and you can enjoy a perfectly Malfoy-free rest of your holiday."

She laughed weekly but still looked petrified.

He nudged her with his elbow. "Seriously. These things are always the same. Most people are only here to stroke their own egos. They don't really care about anything else that's going on. I promise, you might even have fun. All you have to do is smile demurely and act like it's your greatest pleasure to meet them."

She took a deep breath and plastered a very diplomatic smile on her face, holding out her arm for him to take. "Alright, let's do it."

He grinned at her and led them over to the table with the place cards. He spoke their names to the marble carved bouquet of roses and two place cards materialized in the air in front of them. He quickly flipped one over to find the table number and stored them in his pocket.

They entered the ballroom which was decorated in appropriate excess. Each table was covered in gold and silver tablecloths and non-melting snowflakes the size of his fist fell from the ceiling. There were at least twenty Christmas trees, decorated in dripping glittering white, silver, and gold paint. He grabbed two flutes of champagne from a server and indicated in the direction of their table which, of course, was right in front of the stage.

His mother was fussing over with the bowtie on Theo's who looked simultaneously bored and disgusted by the gleaming crystals hanging over the table and chairs. His mother spotted them and she floated over to them and began cooing over Granger's hair and dress. Granger politely complimented her outfit as well and was gracefully dragged away towards the table where she could deposit her things.

"Er, hello," she said somewhat shyly to Theo. Draco was willing to bet they'd never said more than 20 words to each other.

Theo bowed his head slightly. "Hermione. You look enchanting."

Color flooded her cheeks but before she had to respond his mother was asking her about her necklace.

Draco drowned his glass and went to stand by Theo, happy to see that there were several self-pouring bottles on the table, just waiting to refill his glass.

"You're fucking late," he whispered.

Draco shrugged. "I haven't missed dinner or them all giving each other verbal blow jobs, so I must not be that late."

"Yes, well I've already been subjected to brown nosing ten times worse than knob head Dubois."

"There was a line for the lift and Mrs. Granger is quite taken with me." He winked.

Theo snorted and appraised Granger and loudly whispered, "Were you late because you had to transfigure her out of the peacock monstrosity?"

Draco snorted the sip of champagne he'd just taken.

Granger shot them a murderous glare.

"Shame. I really hoped she'd wear the green one," he said, slightly louder.

Granger whipped around to open her mouth. His mother, sensing danger, guided her firmly away from their table.

"…and you just must meet Sofia. Her son Blaise is at Hogwarts with you as well. She paints the most amazing landscapes. She specializes in agricultural scenes. One or two of her paintings actually hang at Hogwarts. I believe there's one in the Gryffindor corridor. She showed me the last time we both visited the school. And of course, her new husband Bartholomew works at the Ministry. Very good contact to have. Their wedding last summer was a bit gregarious for my taste but…"

Granger looked over her shoulder at him and looked absolutely terrified. He raised his glass and sent her a stage smile. She rolled her eyes and turned back to his mother, nodding politely.

Draco shook his head and set to work on his newly filled glass. Theo swirled his whiskey and, away from the prying eyes of his mother, slouched against the chair and loosened his bowtie.

"Good lord. How your father has lived with her all these years… That must be why he's so grouchy all the time. These suits are the fucking worst."

Draco shoved him in jest but laughed along. They really were. He liked how nice dress robes looked but they were unbearably uncomfortable.

"Well, shall we? We can waste more of my dusty old ancestor's money on whatever crap they've stocked the auction with?"

Theo laughed and drained his glass, holding out his arm as though he expected Draco to escort him.

"Oh fuck off," Draco said, shoving him out of the way.

They proceeded to waste the better part of an hour judging the items up for auction as well as the other attendees. He and Theo took turns making bids in each other's names on horrific items they'd be embarrassed to accept publicly at the end of the night. Unfortunately, all the items save for the one with Draco's name seemed to be fairly popular and they were out-bid. Draco had to resort to making small talk with a craggy old lady with a particularly distinctive hat in order to save himself from almost certain life-ending embarrassment. Theo flirted shamelessly with a group of middle-aged aristocrats and their daughters, while Draco stood in the background.

Once or twice, he thought he caught a glimpse of his mother and Granger. He was starting to feel mildly guilty for abandoning Granger with his mother. She was now standing in a huddle of particularly uptight-looking couples who were debating god knew what. He recognized the resigned and politely interested expression he'd only ever seen in History of Magic. Even Granger couldn't pretend the worst subject was interesting all the time. But it was probably for the best. Theo had a habit of letting a lot slip when he drank, especially when he knew it would irritate Draco. He glanced back over. Granger had just made a joke and it appeared it had landed perfectly. The women were looking amused and appropriately scandalized while the men had thrown their heads back in laughter. One kissed her hand. His mother fucking beamed down at Granger before catching his eye and glaring at him. He wasn't quite sure what he'd done to deserve that look. It wasn't a "you're being impolite" glare. It was more of a… "you're such a colossal idiot" glare.

"The blue does suit her very nicely, actually."

Draco was tugged out of his reverie. "What?"

Theo shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Your mother is incensed, you know."

"Hm?" Draco said.

"The speech. You're really not going to make one?"

Draco sighed. "No. I agreed to come to this fucking thing, didn't I? If I had it my way we'd be back at the manor, drinking our way through Taffy's most recent wine acquisitions. I never made the donation to get people to fawn over me. I wanted to do a good thing for a girl my family has done nothing but harass and it got so fucking out of hand as well as help out a good cause. I'd rather eat a Blast Ended Skrewt than stand up there and kiss all these wankers' asses any more than I have to."

Theo hummed in agreement. "Well she says it's 'improper and impolite.'"

Draco sighed loudly. "How could it possibly be impolite? I'm the one that gave them half a million Galleons. You're telling me that I still have to woo them after that?"

Theo shrugged. "I'm just passing along the sentiment like I said I would. No need to shoot the messenger."

Draco seethed as he watched as Britain's ambassador to Australia drag his mother and Granger away. As Granger made polite conversation with the woman, it occurred to him how easily she actually would have fit in with the pure-blood crowd, had she been born into it. She was wickedly smart, had a sharp sense of humor that made you laugh about a joke days later, and (as she said) did know how to act the part of a lady when the time called for it. She was passionate and never gave up. She didn't take shit from anyone, but somehow came across as likable regardless. She would be a powerhouse in this crowd if she ever wanted to.

He was suddenly flooded with images of his childhood. Granger attending tea with his mother and the Parkinson women. Granger debating politics with Blaise at godforsaken events like these. Granger playing pranks on his father with him and Theo. Granger cheering him on from the Quidditch stands. He mentally shook his head. It was ridiculous. Not ridiculous that she'd do well in his world. Ridiculous because she wouldn't be Granger if she had come from it.

They would have stamped it right out of her. It would have taken her years to break free from it like Pansy had.

And even then, it would have been too late.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Reading other fabulous works and writing create a nice little bubble of sanity and joy in these crazy times. Stay healthy out there! I'm going to do my darndest to upload Part 2 of the Gala next Monday.**


	24. The Gala - Part 2

**Author's Note:** I don't own Harry Potter. Otherwise, we'd know more about wizard Christmas traditions and what they actually believe. Oh, and there'd be other religious holidays too.

* * *

**Chapter 24**

**The Gala – Part 2**

* * *

**Saturday, December 19**

**Hermione**

Hermione had been hiding in the hall for about four minutes. She sighed heavily. Any longer and Narcissa would probably send a search party. She'd told her she needed to powder her nose and how long could that possibly take?

It had been almost an hour of schmoozing and networking and Hermione was exhausted. Though there had been a handful of interesting people among the crowd, most of them were just nosy socialites. They wanted to know about the dress she was wearing, or what she used on her hair to enhance her natural curls, or if she had a boyfriend, or how she managed to keep such good marks even with the distraction of said boyfriend.

She rolled her eyes and banged into the bathroom, assessing her appearance. Her hair had held up miraculously. Her mother had used the same products and technique that she did, but it looked a thousand times better. And the makeup really had turned out nicely. She'd always secretly found it fascinating and relaxing to watch Parvati and Lavender do their makeup – watching them transform their faces with colored powders, spells, and creams. Where had they learned it all? She'd never really had a desire to do the same on her own face, but she could always appreciate a job well done.

She shook her head. All of those people were out there… All the people back home at the Ministry… The few who did know who she was and praised her for her "accomplishments" and wanted to know what it was like to be such a young hero. They told her she'd be able to have any job with the Ministry she wanted – that they wouldn't be surprised when she was eventually elected Minister. They told her she was a role model and that their daughters wanted to be her when they grew up.

She wanted to tell them she'd give it all up to watch Parvati and Lavender put on their makeup one more time. Back in their dormitory on a Saturday morning before a Quidditch match. She'd be annoyed that they were making so much noise and smelling up the room with their perfumed potions. Harry and Ron would sleep in and not have time to force down anything but toast before the match. In the stands, cheering, secretly wishing Lavender and Parvati had offered to put ribbons in her hair too. Rolling her eyes at Harry, Ron, and Ginny bragging about the game at the after party. Sweeping confetti off of her favorite studying chair the next morning. Yes, she'd give it all up just to be back in a simpler time before they knew anything about anything at all.

The bathroom door creaked open and she hastily sniffed and busied herself pretending to dry her hands until the woman had locked herself in a stall before fleeing down the corridor and trying to straighten her shoulders and plaster a smile on her face.

She almost managed it until she passed a lounge room opposite the hospital's event space where she saw Malfoy and Theo playing darts, laughing, and drinking straight from a bottle.

White hot rage flooded her veins and her vision narrowed to their stupid smug faces, laughing jovially and roughhousing. She couldn't believe it.

She slammed into the room, startling Draco to miss his shot.

"Hey—"

"Are you fucking kidding me, Malfoy?" she shrieked, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him out of the room. She supposed he was so shocked that he didn't fight back as she towed him down the hall. "I cannot believe you. You leave me to schmooze with your mother when you knew FULL WELL that I wanted to keep a low profile. And you two gits are just partying it up?"

"Well I don't want to be here either—" he began to interrupt.

"No. Don't even. You should have thought of the consequences before you donated money to a cause you had no business in. You had to come down here and attend this godforsaken event. If I'd come to visit my mother and father just an hour later, I never would have even known you were here and I wouldn't be forced to be here playing dress up and pretending my ego needs stroking. If I have to suffer, then you do too."

"C'mon, Granger. We were just having a bit of fun. Don't get your knickers in a twist. You'll be back to bossing around underclassmen at Hogwarts in no-time."

She turned around to glare at him. "Well, you might be having fun, but I'm not." Unfortunately, her voice cracked at the last second. She whipped around and strode off towards the ballroom, but he caught up with her and grabbed her arm this time.

"What?" she snapped.

"Are you okay?"

She glared at him. "Yes, Malfoy, I'm f—" she blinked quickly and flared her nostrils to keep from crying, but her body betrayed her and she sniffled. "Obviously not. Happy?"

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and at least had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

"Look, Granger, I'm sorry."

She crossed her arms and sniffled again, looking in another direction.

"Yes, well, while you and Theo have been having your own personal little party, I've been in there just rehashing all of the worst days of my life."

He opened and closed his mouth.

"I just assumed you'd be hiding. I knew you didn't want to have any attention on you tonight. I expected that you'd be laying low and staying out of attention until the last minute. But I find you guys throwing a little party? You're an asshole. You should be out there playing the part of the Malfoy heir with your mother instead of letting me do it for you. That's not why I'm here. That's your job."

The tears were welling dangerously in her eyes now. She hated being an angry crier, but there was nothing to do about it now.

Malfoy shifted uncomfortably.

"It's all Hermione Granger this, the Brightest Witch of Our Age that. 'Oh Hermione, you're so brave.' 'Oh Hermione, you're so beautiful.' 'Oh Hermione, you'll make some lucky man so happy one day. You'll have the pick of the bunch.' 'Oh Hermione, how did you keep your skin so clear after living in a tent for a year.' All they want to talk about is what's made me famous, no matter that it's what keeps me up at night. I don't like being the center of attention… Well, it's not because I'm modest. Far from it. I like being recognized for my accomplishments as much of the next person. But to be congratulated for things that… Our classmates are dead, Malfoy. My friends are gone. Just because I'm not a weepy mess all the time, doesn't mean I don't think about it all the time. I don't want to be congratulated for simply surviving. But here I am, grinning and bearing it like a good girl because I'm not allowed to be a mess. Can you imagine the tabloids? 'Hermione Granger Breaks Down at Gala.' 'Is This the End of the Golden Girl?' 'Hermione Granger Spotted Looking Like A Blubbering Mess."

She took a deep steading breath and glared at Malfoy who looked shell shocked.

Theo had finally caught up to them. "Look, Hermione, I'm sor—"

She held her hand up to him. "Shut it, Theo. And now I'm supposed to go back in there and meet the Australian Minister and talk to him about setting up a youth self-defense program for their schools since they have such a lower emphasis on defensive magic here. Let alone the fact that if Harry and I had really taught it correctly, we'd maybe not cry ourselves to sleep at night over as many dead children."

She shot an icy glare up at the two of them. Theo was avoiding her eye and Malfoy was looking at her curiously.

She squared her shoulders. "Now, I am going to go back in there and you're going to come with me. And if you're anything but perfectly behaved, I will personally end you."

She turned on her heel and stomped towards the ballroom, not daring to look back to see them making faces at each other. Just before she reached the door, a pale hand pushed it open from behind her.

"You're right, Granger. I'm sorry," Malfoy said softly.

"We both are. We're just stupid boys." Theo nudged her shoulder. "Plenty of experience with that, yeah?"

She bit her lip to keep from slipping into a grin. Unfortunately, the sight of Dubois and the Australian Minister approaching quickly did that for her.

"Ah, Hermione, there you are. I was worried you'd run off before I had a chance to introduce you to Minister Weaving. Sir, this is Miss. Hermione Granger. Ah! And you've found Misters Malfoy and Nott." Dubois clapped the boys on their backs and shuffled Hermione forward towards the Minister.

"Ms. Granger, it is an honor to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine, Minister." She returned his perfect politician handshake.

"Boys, how do you do?"

"Theo Nott." Weaving shook Theo's hand.

"Draco Malfoy, sir."

"Ah! The man of the hour. Thank you for your most generous contribution. Australia thanks you."

"Thank you, sir. It was my pleasure. It's a good cause and I know it will be put to excellent use."

There was an awkward silence as the group ended their introductions and pleasantries.

"Well," Dubois said, clearing the air. "Hermione, I was just telling Minister Weaving about that brilliant defense club you and your classmates organized. He was hoping you could—"

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Monsieur Dubois? I think I'm ready for that speech now."

Theo snorted on his whiskey and Hermione glared at Draco for interrupting the two most powerful men in the room.

Dubois recovered from being interrupted. "Oh, Mr. Malfoy, I was led to believe you—"

Malfoy tightened his grip on his glass slightly. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd rather do the declaration sooner than later. I don't react will to the sleep potions and pepper-up potions, so I'm still adjusting to the time difference. I fear any longer and I won't be able to string two sentences together."

Dubois looked stunned. Hermione wasn't surprised. Not only had Malfoy just interrupted him multiple times, but he was now ordering him around.

"Well, of course, Mr. Malfoy. You are the guest of honor tonight. Minister, can we finish this conversation with Hermione later this evening?"

Weaving bowed slightly. "Unfortunately, I must attend to some government business. But I will owl you, Miss Granger. Perhaps I can meet you and Mr. Potter the next time I am in London."

"It would be my honor, Minister." She shook his hand and smiled at him, hardly believing her luck.

"Well, Draco, let's get you up in the spotlight!"

Malfoy grimaced at them and followed Dubois to the front of the ballroom.

"Holy shit," Theo whispered.

"What?" Hermione asked him.

"How'd you do it?" he said, looking at her with wonder.

"Do what?"

"You… this… the…" He gestured between Hermione and where Draco was walking away. Then he cocked his head at her before shaking it. "What an absolute fool. C'mon. Let's go sit down. I have to see this." He walked off towards their table and Hermione followed in confusion.

Narcissa was there, waiting anxiously for them.

"Theodore, where have you and Draco been? I've been looking all over for you. It's highly inappropriate for you to be so notably absent. I cannot believe—"

"It's alright, Mrs. Malfoy. Hermione here has already thoroughly dressed us down for our absence."

"Oh, well, then, consider yourself warned. Where's Draco?" She sank back into her chair.

Theo smirked at Hermione. "Well, he's up with Dubois. Getting set for his speech, of course."

Narcissa's mouth nearly dropped open.

"What? I thought he—" Narcissa gave a curious look to Theo behind Hermione. She whipped around to see him, but he was intently studying the ice in his glass. "Well, that… That's great."

Dubois took the stage and introduced Malfoy who sauntered onto the stage like he'd been born to be there. Which, she begrudgingly admitted, he sort of had.

He thanked Dubois and the healers for having him and delivered an infuriatingly casual yet perfect off-the-cuff speech. Hermione watched in awe as the crowd hung on to his every word. She'd noticed as he'd taken the stage there were more than a few hostile glances from audience members. She wasn't entirely surprised that the Malfoy reputation preceded them. After all, many of them knew of her, why wouldn't they know the other side. But, sentence by sentence, he won them all over. He alluded to the power and infamy of his family name just enough to pepper in an illusion of guilt and remorse. He told a story about his grandmother who'd suffered from dementia, an ailment even the magical community had yet to solve. He told a couple clever jokes and self-depreciating comments. They ate it up.

Over the course of the speech, she occasionally whipped her head to either side after feeling like either Narcissa or Theo had been staring at her. Each time, however, she found them attentively tuned to Malfoy.

Finally, Dubois made the dedication and gave Malfoy a plaque to commemorate the occasion. They posed for photos with Weaving and other hospital administrators. Afterwards, Malfoy slunk back to their table as dinner began to be served, looking uncharacteristically flustered.

"Great speech, mate." Theo smirked at him as he took his seat between Hermione and Narcissa.

Malfoy grumbled something.

"Seriously, you did an incredible job memorizing it. It _almost_ sounded like you made it up on the fly. But we all know you're far too uptight to make any kind of decisions last minute. That is, of course, unless there were a particularly attractive reason."

Malfoy glared around Hermione at Theo and began to cut his steak aggressively.

Hermione knew she was missing something. She looked at Theo who simply shrugged at her and began on his food.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Hermione asked Malfoy. "Seemed fairly painless."

He furrowed his brow at her and shrugged.

He clearly wasn't in the mood for chit chat so she set about to eat her salmon.

After a few minutes of awkward silence and silverware scraping against their plates, one of the hospital administrators got up and began announcing the winners of the silent auction. Theo sat back in his chair at attention. Malfoy stiffened.

"..And the Giraffe chapeau goes Madam Tinslebury."

Draco sighed audibly, almost out of relief. "Thank fucking Merlin."

Theo laughed and leant over Draco to talk to Hermione. "Did you know the designer is the same one who designed Neville's gran's hat? She's very popular with the older crowd."

Hermione assessed the stuffed giraffe hat with displeasure and giggled.

Narcissa hushed them.

"It's too bad. Draco would've looked so dashing in that hat," Theo whispered. Hermione tried to stifle her giggle into her champagne.

After dinner, the gala got marginally better. Malfoy was in a far better mood after he'd eaten. He even introduced her to a fiction author she liked and one of the leading transfiguration researchers. He also sought out an old woman his mother knew who used to work with the creatures department at the Ministry. The women promised to take her owls if she ever wanted more information about policy. True to his word, he never left her side and did his best to include her in conversation in ways that she'd enjoy. Theo stood nearby, muttering sarcastic comments in her ear about the other guests and about Malfoy.

After the crowd seemed to be thinning out, Malfoy looked at his watch.

"Well, Granger, I think we've done enough damage for one day. What do you say we call it a job well done?"

She nodded. Suddenly, it felt very late indeed.

She said goodbye to Theo and Narcissa, who absolutely insisted that she come and visit them before they all left. Hermione tried very hard to say that she would be busy, but in the end acquiesced.

"Sorry about that. You really don't have to come see us. I know you have a lot going on here with your… Well, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to spend more time with us. I know I haven't made it easy tonight." Malfoy said, shuffling his feet awkwardly near the floos.

"Oh, it's alright," she shrugged. "I'd love to see more of the countryside. Plus, I suspect I might need a distraction after seeing my father."

The unexpected meeting with the Malfoys the day before had completely derailed their plans for the day. Her mother had point blank refused to let her see him today before the gala. Hermione suspected her mum knew that it wasn't going to go well and didn't want to spoil the evening for her. But she'd have to face it in the morning. If it did all go terribly wrong, at least she'd have something else to think about.

"Oh," Malfoy muttered in surprise. "I didn't know he was doing any better."

She shrugged. "Yes, well, apparently there's been some developments. That's why I'm here. I'm leaving Christmas Eve to go to the Burrow. But if it goes anything like it did with mum…"

He was silent for a long moment. "I… I don't know what to say."

She snorted. "That's a first. Well, thanks, but it's okay. I made a choice and I'm pretty sure I saved their lives. I'll deal with the fallout now. Plus, mum has started to come around."

He opened his mouth before closing it again and fixing her with a resigned expression.

"Well, I suppose I should be off then," Hermione said, motioning towards the floo.

"Where are you staying? I'll escort you," Malfoy said, stiffening and returning to his normal self.

"Oh, please!" Hermione laughed. "I'm capable of finding my own way. After all, it's just a floo ride away."

"It's the proper thing to do, Granger. What if something happens to you?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Look, Malfoy, I'm not your date. I'm not a damsel that needs saving. I promise you; I'll be fine. I have used floo powder before, you know."

He looked like he was going to argue more, but apparently decided against it.

"Pass the floo powder, Malfoy."

"What were you whispering about anyway?" he asked quietly. "You and that little girl in the lift."

Hermione strained her memory, before laughing at the memory from earlier that evening that seemed like a lifetime ago. "She wanted to know if you were my Prince Charming."

"And I suppose that's some fairytale thing?"

Rolling her eyes, she laughed, "Honestly, you really should make more of an effort to understand muggle culture. They outnumber us more than a thousand to one. The floo powder, Malfoy." She held out her hand. He held out the bag for her.

"Well what did you say, anyway?"

"Hm?" she said, absentmindedly grabbing a handful of floo powder.

"About Prince Charming."

"Oh," she grinned slyly. "Well, I told her definitely not."

He stared at her.

"For Pete's sake, Malfoy. It's obvious by the name. You're supposed to be intelligent. Prince Charming is a prince from muggle fairytales. He saves the princess or otherwise endangered damsel in distress, falls in love with her, and takes her a way to a romantic land far away from all her troubles. She thought you were my boyfriend."

Malfoy's eyes went wide. "Oh. What would have given her that impression?" he said going slightly pink.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "She's a little girl. We are all dressed up like they are in fairy tales. She was just being romantic. Look, I really should go before I turn into a pumpkin."

He gaped at her.

"Another fairytale for another time, Malfoy. Thanks for a… lovely evening."

He scoffed. "It was a terrible evening, Granger. And I'm to blame."

She patted his arm. "It's alright, it turned out in the end. You just needed me to kick you into gear first."

"Still…" he looked at his feet. "I'm always terrible to you."

Who was this and what had he done with Malfoy? She suspected the abnormally large amount of alcohol he'd consumed had something to do with it. It wasn't that he was… mean to her anymore. Certainly, the days when he'd been cruel had come and gone. He wasn't exactly nice, and he loved to push her buttons, but he was generally civil and respectful.

"Not anymore. You're just a prickly git, these days. Plus, you distracted the Australian minister which saved me. And you took me to a fancy ball. Maybe you are my prince charming after all!"

Malfoy looked at her startled, horrified, and confused. The site was so comical that she couldn't help but laugh. It always amazed her to see the parts of him that weren't so serious and put together. It was like seeing your parents drunk for the first time and realizing that they're actually people. Before she could stop herself, she kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight, Malfoy. Have your mother owl me."

She stepped through the floo, not glancing back at him, feeling just a little hot in the cheeks.

* * *

**Draco**

Celestina Warback filled the air. He sat on the floor next to the Christmas tree, decorated in delicate silver tinsel and baubles. He painstakingly unwrapped a brightly colored artificially flavored toffee. Well, calling them toffees was a bit of a stretch, but he still liked them. Each one held a joke. Snape had gotten them for him once in Muggle London and always sent him some at Christmastime.

"What do you call a fancy sea creature, Draco?"

He looked to his left, where Hermione sat crosslegged in flannel pajama pants, her hair in two braides, and sporting a famous Weasley sweater. He looked down. He was wearing one too. It was black with a silver "D" on it.

He unstuck his teeth. "I dunno, what?"

She giggled. "So-FISH-ticated!" She laughed heartily, leaning backwards, and bonking her head on the coffee table.

"That's the worst one yet, Granger!"

She offered him a Christmas cracker and he pulled it, getting the short end. It produced a top hat which Hermione plopped on her head. It immediately transformed into a plume of feathers, making her voice squawk. He laughed at her, clutching his side. Slowly, all of the feathers molted, falling to the floor in the middle of the Slytherin common room.

A bright red one was stuck by her ear. He reached forward to tug it out, brushing the side of her cheek. It was warm and soft and flushed pink. He wanted—

Draco jolted awake, sitting straight up in bed. He shook himself, trying to remember what had startled him out of sleep. As he grasped desperately for the pieces of the dream, they slipped further out of reach. He shook his head and sank back into his pillows anxiously.

There had been a Christmas tree. And Granger. And a Weasley sweater, he thought he remembered vaguely.

As he tried to quiet his mind and fall back asleep, he had the uneasy feeling that he'd had the same dream before.

* * *

**It beginssssssss....**

Thanks for reading. I'm struggling a bit with the next few chapters. I think I was too rash to upload this. I have too many ideas and I'm not entirely pleased with the way it's panning out, so I'll need to do some revision. I'm also not particularly happy with this chapter, but it'll do for now. 

I can't believe I'm at Christmas chapters so close to actual Christmas. I'm hoping I'll be able to post the Christmas/New Years chapter next week in time.

If not, happy holidays to all!


	25. Treading Carefully

**Sunday, December 20**

**Hermione**

Hermione checked her reflection for the 36th time. What was one supposed to wear for tea with your ex-enemy, now… friend and his mother halfway across the world? She didn't know how to classify Malfoy these days.

She'd chosen a sundress and cardigan and her trusty ballet flats. It would have to do. The only thing going for her was that the humidity had let up slightly this morning and there had been a breeze by the beach where she'd taken a morning walk. The salt water had enhanced her natural curls into a beachy curl that alluded to the looks she'd seen in magazines. She wondered distantly if there was a way to make a salt-water hair potion for the future, as she was quite pleased with the effect. Parvati might know. Lavender surely would have.

She checked the mirror for a 37th time before checking the clock. It was exactly 3:30. She had no more excuses. It was time to go. Tugging the skirt of her dress down again, she summoned the floo powder and forced herself through the floo.

She stumbled out of the floo, her shoes skidding on a waxed floor. A strong hand grabbed her arm and steadied her.

"Alright there, Granger?" Malfoy said, letting her go.

Hermione looked around "modest" villa, Narcissa had called it. She snorted to herself at what the Malfoys considered "modest." She was standing in a grand warm entrance hall with beautiful Italian inspired tiling, arches, and pillars. Marble, draping silk and linen, and rich green plants adorned the hall. Bright afternoon sunlight flooded in from the floor to ceiling west facing windows. A crisp white couch sat in the corner, bathed in sunlight, tempting Hermione and reminding her how tired she was from the night before.

"Granger?"

"Hm?" she looked up at Malfoy, startled. "Oh, yes, wonderful, thank you, Malfoy."

He quirked a brow at her and she felt her face warm, suddenly wishing the entrance hall was a bit darker.

"Alright, well, carry on then. Everyone's in here."

He pointed to the hallway and she tried not to stumble in the direction he pointed. She had no idea why she was being so awkward. Maybe it was the chaos of the last three days finally catching up with her. Or the lack of sleep. Or the quantity of proximity to Slytherins. Or all of the above. She shook her head. _Get a grip, Hermione._

They walked silently through the halls, her dress swishing and his shoes clicking. She looked briefly over her shoulder and Malfoy had his eyes trained on the ground with his hands in his pockets. He looked up to catch her eye, and quickly averted his gaze. She'd expected a smirk or smug glance, but it appeared he was feeling awkward as well.

She sighed heavily and cracked her neck. They passed through a beautiful courtyard with a sparkling pool and a sweeping view of the hillside, including other villas and the surrounding vineyard. It was a breathtaking sight and the book she'd brought with her was suddenly weighing down her bag. She longed to curl up in one of the lounge chairs by the pool and forget everything but the characters in the novel and the sounds of the breeze and birds.

Malfoy cleared his throat. She'd stopped walking.

"Sorry."

He shrugged. "It's quite the view, yeah?"

She nodded and forced herself out of her trance to follow Malfoy towards the tinkling sound of Narcissa's laughter.

"Hermione! Oh I'm so glad you came. I just had the loveliest time last night and I've already received three owls about how enchanting you were. You just most accompany us to more functions back home. You'll go far and it's all about connections. I would be delighted to help you build the professional future I know you aspire to."

Hermione was stunned by the flurry of activity and adorations of Narcissa. She felt herself reddening for the fourth time in three minutes and being kissed on the cheek. Narcissa was certainly not what she had expected. She recalled some of her mother's friends from when she was younger. Some of her friends had been the socialite type and Hermione had always found them dreadful. They were far too concerned with how things appeared and trivial nonsense like fashion and gossip.

Similar to beauty practices, Hermione had never been particularly concerned with fashion. No question, she liked to get dressed up once in a while and everyone likes to feel their best, but it was just never something she wanted to spend any measure of time on. That being said, she had always secretly enjoyed accompanying Ginny and her mother on shopping trips. So long as no one was forcing her to try anything on, there was a kind of peace to be found among luxurious fabrics and colors. Plus, the way her their eyes would light up when they found something they liked was enchanting. Watching her mother put together a professional outfit, or Ginny sift through the Hogsmeade thrift shop was an art she could appreciate, even if she didn't care to partake herself. And if they were willing to kill time while she wandered aimlessly through a bookstore until she lost herself in literary fantasy, why couldn't she do the same for them?

But she'd expected Narcissa to be judgmental and prissy, obsessed with status and marrying her off. In contrast, she was kind, sharply witted, and had an amazing knack for reading the people around her. She knew when Hermione was bored with a conversation or uncomfortable. Though she'd told Narcissa little about herself, she seemed to have an inkling for what kind of work she wanted to do after Hogwarts and had made it a point to help Hermione make as many connections as possible.

Though initially nervous, Hermione suspected that Narcissa must have long abandoned any muggle prejudice she'd had, or was at least committed to doing so. She recalled meeting them in Madam Malkin's before Sixth Year and to say she'd been less than pleasant was an understatement. Narcissa hadn't mentioned that interaction or the incident at the manor but had been nothing but a gracious host and hadn't made Hermione feel uncomfortable in the slightest. In their defense, it had been a particularly stressful summer for the Malfoys. Not that she felt bad for them – they'd made their choices. But Harry had come in, guns blazing, and mothers defend their sons.

Ron said she was too forgiving, and maybe that was true. Hermione laughed at herself internally at her earlier internal monologue, calling the instance where she'd been kidnapped, tortured, and nearly killed an "incident." That was exactly what Ron was always talking about. He accused her of romanticizing things.

"Hermione?"

Again, she snapped out of a trance.

"I'm so sorry, Narcissa. Forgive me. I think the time change and excitement is catching up to me. Thank you for having me. This place is lovely."

Narcissa smiled at her sweetly and took her bag. "It's alright dear. I always find being on the other side of the world a bit disorienting. Sit down and relax. Draco, fetch some tea for Hermione."

Hermione sank into a chair next to Theo who nodded in her direction and summoned over a plate of pastries. She assessed the situation and chose a handful of Jordan almonds, a treat which she'd always enjoyed with her mother. Malfoy placed a cup in front of her. It was exactly the right color.

"How do you know how I take my tea?"

Theo coughed on a scone next to her.

"Well, I have the evidence on a ruined button down in my room, yeah?" He said quietly. "Plus, you don't seem like the sugar type."

She took a sip, blushing at the memory of their meeting at the hospital. "Well, thank you… Draco."

He stilled slightly, at the sound of his first name. It felt awkward to say, but she supposed it was weird to call him Malfoy in the presence of his mother.

Soon the four were all sitting, and the room was filled with the sounds of spoons clinking against china, and the loudness of a particularly oppressive silence.

* * *

**Draco**

It had been a long day. He'd woke up for the second day in a row with a raging hangover. This time, however, there was the added bonus of being plagued by restless sleep.

He'd spent the majority of the morning avoiding Theo. He wasn't exactly sure why, but he knew he didn't want any of Theo's prodding comments. Then there had been the lecture from his mother about his questionable behavior from the night prior, not to mention a scolding for his lacking enthusiasm for Granger's visit today.

So, by the time Granger had literally stumbled through the floo, he was ready to commit himself to welcoming a third day with a hangover.

Granger and Theo were busy debating the merits of their various defense against the dark arts professors. She maintained that Lupin had been the best one, but Theo argued that the fake Moody had risen above the rest. On this particular instance, he was inclined to side with Granger. He'd never forgotten the unfortunate ferret incident which had really been quite scarring.

"Draco?"

"Hm?"

"You have to agree, the Moody-Crouch bloke was far superior to Lupin."

Draco sighed. He had been happy to tune out the conversation. "Neither. Snape, no question."

Granger scoffed and reached forward for another handful of those horrid candy-covered almonds his mother adored. She had been crunching on them loudly for an hour and it was beginning to grate on his nerves.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Theo waved his wand, and a colorful bag flew down the hall. He tossed it to Draco.

_Laffy Taffy._

"I know Snape always bought them for you and I… well I saw them at the convenience store earlier." He shrugged, grabbing the bag back.

Draco was torn between the unexpectedness of the gesture and the sinking feeling of realization he couldn't quite place.

Theo ripped open the bag, tossing candies to him and Granger and offering one to his mother who eyed them suspiciously.

"Hermione! This one's for you. What's a building with the most stories?"

Granger giggled. "A library! I've heard that one before."

Theo sighed sarcastically as though this had ruined his whole day, but ripped open another one, discarding the aggressively pink candy.* "Okay, I don't get this one."

Granger held out her hand and threw her head back with a light chuckle. "Okay, yes, this one would probably be beyond your muggle knowledge. It refers to a specific generation, those born after the second muggle World War. After thirty years of on and off conflict, there was a huge boom in births. They call the generation the 'Baby Boomers.'"

Everyone was quiet, but Granger continued. "SOOOOO, what do you call a baby with a drum set?" She raised her eyebrows. "A baby boomer. See, because the baby would make a lot of noise but it's also a play on the term Baby Boomer." She sighed. "It's a pretty advanced concept. Oh! Okay, here's a much better one." She giggled. "What to wolves say when they're introduced? _Howl_ you do!"

She doubled over in laughter and Theo groaned. His mother was smiling politely, chewing on the smallest portion of the candy possible. She was looking at Granger with an odd expression that he couldn't place. He realized it was… wonder.

Theo and Granger were arguing over the semantics of another joke, his mouth full, garbling every word and her gesticulating wildly with several unwrapped taffies in her fist.

It was then when he shifted his chair, that she was positioned perfectly between him and the grand Christmas tree in the corner. His heart skipped a beat as an image drifted into his unwilling mind. He remembered the dream from this morning. The image of them laughing together next to the tree in the Slytherin common room wearing Weasley sweaters assaulted him.

_Since when do you dream about Granger?_

"Honey?" Granger said sweetly. And for a mortifying second he actually thought she was using a pet name for him, the same one he'd heard his mother use. Worse, he'd almost responded.

He grunted a no thanks, holding on to a now cold cup of tea for dear life, shaken at the idea that he'd _liked_ the idea of her calling him "honey."

**Monday, December 21**

**Hermione**

How Hermione had become such fast friends with Theo Nott and the Malfoys, she didn't know. One day, she was generally friendly with them, the next she saw them every day. Following the gala and tea at the villa, she was now out shopping with them in Hariborus Square. In a moment of stupidity, she'd lamented about having not yet finished her Christmas shopping and Narcissa insisted that she accompany them the next day.

Theo had seemed happy to tag along, entertaining her with snide comments about various shoppers and things they saw window shopping. She'd found his company quite comforting. It reminded her a bit of Harry and Ron, especially back before everything got quite so complicated and scary. She'd always gravitated towards the boys in Gryffindor as she never had been able to connect with the girls, except Ginny, of course. However, the older they got, the more she felt the strain of hopeful attraction from the other boys like Neville. She felt guilty and conceited even thinking about it, but she remembered the slight change in how some of the boys treated her after Fourth Year. Only Harry and Ron had seemed to just accept her for the Gryffindor know it all they'd always known and loved. And with Theo, she felt all of the comfortable platonic ease, with absolutely no tension. It was a breath of fresh air.

Malfoy… well he was still prickly. He'd been keeping his distance ever since the gala. She suspected he felt a bit embarrassed by his mother's enthusiasm regarding her. Plus, she was sure he hadn't expected to spend his entire Christmas holiday with her.

She'd never admit it, but Hermione was grateful for the company of the three. The situation with her parents was awkward and precarious and the healers felt it would be helpful for her interactions to be somewhat limited so to avoid overwhelming her father. If not for Theo and the Malfoys, she would have been spending a lot of time alone in a hotel room.

One plus of their company was that Malfoy had amazing taste in cuisine and a particular knack for picking out little cafés and restaurants off the beaten path. For breakfast that morning, they found a divine bakery and coffee shop and then he dragged them down an alleyway for a long lunch at a fresh seafood place he found on a muggle street nearby. Narcissa had taken one glance at the grungy dive and informed them she'd meet them later.

Malfoy, it seemed, was quite the shellfish enthusiast. He ordered two of the fresh catch platters, a real win for the waitress, as she was sure each one alone was about $100.

Three waitresses dropped off the two platters, a bowl of melted butter the size of her head, and two loaves of the most heavenly fresh baked bread Hermione had ever seen.

"If you finish it all, ya get your picture on the board," a crotchety old waitress had told Malfoy, gesturing to the wall of polaroid pictures.

Hermione succumbed to a fit of giggles, as all of the individuals in the pictures had been forced to wear a lobster hat.

Malfoy looked horrified but set a determined look at the piles of food.

"Oh, almost forgot," the waitress grunted, shoving plastic bibs into each of their hands.

Malfoy and Theo looked at her questioningly and she laughed. "They're bibs! So you don't spoil your shirt with grease and shellfish."

The boys looked at each other in dismay but finally Theo shrugged and tied his around his neck. "When in Rome, Draco."

Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest. "Absurd. I'll just charm a protective shield on my shirt."

Hermione, emboldened by the beer that had gone to her head on an empty stomach, jumped up and darted to tie the bib on Malfoy before he knew what was happening.

"You'll do no such thing. We are not to use magic outside of Hariborus Square. We could get in serious trouble."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, ease up, Granger, it's a block away. There's got to be a local witch or wizard around to mask our magic."

She scoffed. "Rules are rules for a reason, Malfoy. I don't fancy being kicked out of the country early." She tied the bib tightly and tucked it under the collar of his button down, accidentally brushing the nape of his neck. He froze. "There. All set. Dig in, boys."

After they'd finished, Theo excused himself to the men's room, but came back with the waitresses, and a massive ice cream sundae with burning candles. They sang an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday to Malfoy, who sulked, trying to sink into the floor. Hermione's stomach ached with laughter and fullness, and was delightfully horrified when the waitress forced the lobster hat on his head and commanded him to smile for the camera. Theo used his considerable flirting skills to charm her into taking a second one for him to keep. Malfoy looked murderous and threw down an absurd amount of muggle money and bolted from the restaurant.

Hermione and Theo giggled raucously the whole way back to the spot where they were to meet Narcissa.

* * *

**Wednesday, December 23**

**Draco**

Draco tried to block out the hasty scratching sound of Granger's quill and her mutterings. She'd been invited back _again_ today by Theo for help with a transfiguration essay. McGonagall had apparently asked the professors to be a little lenient with him, as he'd been working so hard on his project for the Ministry. Therefore, he had until the first day of term to owl in the essay they'd all submitted the prior week.

To his dismay, Granger had stuck around to work on whatever homework she'd decided couldn't possibly wait until term started back up. Theo had long since abandoned them, in search of a pretty muggle he'd encountered on a walk through a neighboring village.

So, there they sat. Draco was perched on a lounge chair next to the pool under a heavy umbrella, reading international finance news.

Granger, was laying stomach down on the grass, scribbling and fidgeting with her feet in the air, leaving her legs on display due to the shortest denim cutoffs he'd ever seen. She shifted her papers around and played with a curl that had fallen down from her top knot. He was forcibly reminded of the ghosting of her fingertips on the back of his neck two days prior. He reread the paragraph about Japanese bond trading, trying not to notice the shifting of her tee shirt as she stretched.

He told himself he was annoyed because she was flaunting her ability to sit in the sun without burning while he was huddled in the slowly decreasing area of shade on the deck chair.

A cloud shifted and uncovered the sun, basking the pool area with a golden light. Granger moaned softly in contentment and threw her head down onto her arms.

"Granger!" he growled. "For Merlin's sake. If you can't keep quiet, I'll kick you out."

She glared at him. "The sun feels so good. Summer is my favorite."

He scoffed. "You said winter was your favorite."

She scrunched up her face. "Well, I guess I like both. Is that a crime?"

"It is if you can't shut the fuck up," he grumbled.

"Well, whatever you're reading can't be that interesting. You haven't turned a page in ages."

He glared at her. "What are you even working on? You and I both know you've already worked through the end of January. Why can't you just take a break."

She rolled her eyes. "you and I both know that…" she lifted her sunglasses and squinted at the newspaper he held. "..the 'Yankee Magical Economist' can't be that interesting. I suppose I need a distraction. I suspect you know the feeling."

She turned back to her work.

"How… How did it go yesterday? With the healers, I mean."

She looked up curiously.

"Uh, mother told me that's why you turned down her invitation to do the vineyard tour. That you were meeting with the healer team."

"Oh. Well, fine I suppose. I mean the real hurdle is gone, now that they both remember. Now it's just reintroducing them to their old lives and…. Mending wounds." She quickly replaced her sunglasses.

"I thought they were fine, physically," Draco blurted out.

She began ripping blades of grass out of the ground. "Well, yes, they are. It's the emotional wounds we have to tiptoe around now." Suddenly the whole world around them seemed to still. The breeze stopped and even the birds seemed to quiet. Draco held his breath. After a moment she continued. "Mum has pretty much come around. She has essentially come to terms with the whole memory charm thing. She's not happy about it but I think she understands. After all, I think she knows me better than I know myself. But she's being difficult. She is insisting I send her copies of the Prophet from the last few years as well as give her a detailed account of the events preceding and including the war. She says if things are really as serious as I claimed that it will be easily explained when she knows the full story I never really told her."

She inspected a blade of grass she'd broken off, smelling it, and letting it fly out of her fingers with the breeze.

"See, the wizarding world is quite mad," she laughed sadly. "And it's not exactly any saner when Harry Potter is your best friend."

Draco snorted.

"And after three years of owls home half explaining nearly tragic accidents, I convinced Professor Dumbledore to stop sending the owls. He argued at first, but I'm a bit of an unprecedented student and I swore to him that I would keep Mr. Weasley informed. The worst was after Fifth Year at the Ministry. You know… when your father…" She sent the briefest of glances towards Draco and his heart skipped a beat.

_Ah, yes. You mean the time where he tried to murder some teenagers at behest of the Dark Lord, fucked it all up and landed himself in Azkaban, forcing me to carry on the tradition and ruin my fucking life? Yes, I know to what you're referring."_

"Well, anyway, Dolohov sent some unknown curse at me and it knocked me unconscious for days and I still have this terrible scar." She rolled onto her side and lifted up the corner of her shirt to show a clean purple scar that he suspected ascended up her ribcage. "Well, he and Mrs. Weasley were beside themselves with worry about us and anger that we'd taken things into our own hands. He'd almost apparated to my parents' house to tell them what happened, but I woke up and begged them not to. I told them it was an emergency appendix removal and the reason it looked different is because of a bad reaction to the spell they used. They bought it. But, long story short, I never even told them Voldemort was back. They had no idea what was going on, so she can't very well understand why I did what I did, yeah?"

Draco just stared at her, mouth agape.

"So now she's sussed out I've been lying to her for almost 10 years, she wants to know what the hell has been going on. I don't think I'll be able to get out of this one. She's already written off to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley asking them to start compiling the articles. If I don't start sending them to her, they're to send them. I know they will. Mr. Weasley has always felt so guilty that he agreed to the arrangement in the first place. The worst of it is that she blames herself. She thinks _she's_ the one responsible since she didn't pay better attention. It's just such a mess." She sniffed loudly.

"Merlin, Granger. You really…"

"Cocked it all up? Yeah, pretty much," she said laughing weakly.

He snorted. "Well, shit, Granger. I'm afraid to even ask how your father took the news."

She shrugged. "We haven't really gotten to the great betrayal part yet. He is much more confused than mum. Her near death experience brought everything back so much more quickly and cemented it. But he's… well he's very confused about the whole magic business. I don't know if we'll get to the stickier bits before I leave. But I suspect he'll be pretty upset. He's always wanted to protect me."

Draco was really at a loss for words. He didn't remember ever having such a deep and civil conversation with her. And the casualness with which she talked about all of it was tragic.

"Well, I suppose there's not much to say but sorry."

She studied him for a moment. "Thanks, I appreciate it. Harry and Ron don't really understand. I think Harry has a hard time with it because he never knew his parents. I've always suspected deep down he doesn't approve of what I did. He'd never say it, but he'd give anything to have a family. He's not a bad person, and I know he loves me, but I think he thinks he'd have done something different. Anything to avoid losing his family. Well, and Ron grew up in our world so it's hard for him to understand why my parents wouldn't get the danger. They mean well, but they have their own demons."

Draco hummed in agreement. He certainly knew all about being blinded by one's own demons and forgetting about everything else around him.

Granger went back to her notes and Draco went back to pretending to read finance news. After a while, the afternoon sun turned warm and soft. Granger yawned and checked her watch.

"Well, I suppose I should go. I need to pack, after all. And I'm sure you hadn't expected to spend your entire holiday with me."

Again, he didn't know what to say. It was true, he hadn't expected this at all. She drove him mad, but he didn't hate her company. He stood up to help her gather her things. "I'll see you back at Hogwarts then."

She looked at him guiltily. "Oh, well, I would have thought… Sorry, your mother invited me to dinner tomorrow night. She said you're all also leaving tomorrow. I canceled my portkey since we can all just take one back home together. I hope that's alright. I thought she would have told you. She's a lot like my mother. She just sort of does things and suggests things and there's no escaping it. It's like a tornado. One moment you're doing your own thing, the next thing you know, she's got you swept up into some grand scheme and beside that you're actually enjoying that." She squeaked covering your mouth. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she's lovely. I meant no offense. I'm quite glad to have gotten to know her. I was nervous, you see, because of…" she gestured between them and into the air. "You know, because of, well, _everything_. And I didn't know at first if she was just being polite, but the more time I spend with you all, the more genuine she seems. I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I guess you're used to that by now."

"Seems I'd have to be," he said, handing her a book.

"Okay. Well then I'll see you tomorrow," she said breathlessly, bolting inside before he could offer to show her out.

She tripped on the doorway, causing the door to slam, and he heard her clattering down the hall, apologizing to Taffy, and ultimately disappearing beyond his auditory range.

He rolled his eyes. _Hurricane Granger_. Draco scooted the chair over further into the shade of the building, kicking off his shoes and rolling up his sleeves, now that Granger was gone and he didn't need to worry about what she might see. Not that she'd be surprised, but he didn't think he could stand to see the sudden realization and pity in her eyes. She was smart to have forgotten and too good a person to be disgusted by it. They danced around the subject and that was just fucking fine by Draco, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, it turned out that Japanese finance wasn't any easier to concentrate on without distractions.

All of a sudden, the courtyard was oppressively silent. The light breeze that had circulated the floral scent of the hillside was an annoying breeze disrupting his papers. The shade, once the perfect temperature, was chilly without the warm breeze. And the lapping of the pool on tile was distracting instead of relaxing.

Draco huffed and grumbled to himself, sweeping up his papers and headed inside.

"You two get along rather well for people who claim they aren't friends."

Draco halted up to see his mother sitting primly on the couch reading a novel, basking in the sun like Granger had, albeit far more demurely.

"You can be friendly without being friends Mother," Draco muttered.

"Well, it's been nice to have another woman around."

"Granger doesn't seem the type to engage in beauty trends, mother. What you have to gossip about together is beyond me."

She looked up at him from above her reading glasses, studying him. He tried to relax his face so she couldn't read it. After a long moment she seemed to come to some conclusion, resulting in a sinking feeling in his gut he couldn't quite place. He turned to head out of the room, slowly as to not provoke the predatory gaze he saw in her face.

"You know, Draco, she's one of a kind. We'll never meet another one like her. It's a miracle she'd give us a chance given everything. Tread carefully please."

Draco fled.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

***Aggressively pink candy: an ode to violently purple and Potterless.**


	26. Moving On

**Happy New Year!** I hope you are all doing well. Please note that I am going to officially plan to post every other week. I just can't accommodate every week right now. We're also about 2/3 of the way through this story. It'll be about 40 chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 26**

* * *

**Thursday, December 24**

**Hermione**

For someone who felt at home in the silence of the library, Hermione adored the noise of the Burrow. Though such a family was overwhelming at times, she'd always found a peace in the chaos. Growing up as an only child, and one from an exceptionally calm family, life had been quiet. Still, she'd found she actually did some of her best studying trying to block out all of the noise of the Weasley home. There was just something about having laughter, loving chatter, and the occasional argument in the background that made her happy. It always felt akin to the way it feels to sit a little too close to the fireplace or stepping into a too-hot bath or shower. At first, it's uncomfortable, but when you go to move away, you miss the scorching heat.

Mrs. Weasley had told Hermione once that she had once been much more uptight. But, she'd said, after you add more than three children, there's just no point in fighting the pandemonium. Hermione had secretly always wanted a large family, a dream that just grew after spending time at the Burrow. She also suspected that it would be the only thing that would ever make her embrace a chaotic and unstructured life.

From the moment she'd stepped through the floo into the burrow that morning, it had been loud, boisterous, and impossible – just the way she and Harry liked it. Now she was nestled into the arm of a battered sofa fielding questions from Mr. Weasley about the Australian ministry, Australian muggle society, and her parents. Ginny and Bill were playing chess and Percy was yelling at George and Charlie to keep down the noise from whatever they were doing. Mrs. Weasley was humming jovially in the kitchen and she could see Ron and Harry outside de-gnoming the garden. It was Ron's least favorite chore, but Harry always offered. She knew it was one of the first things he'd done at the Burrow on his first visit and she suspected he did it out of habit. Harry was the most nostalgic person she'd ever met.

She stifled a giggle as Harry shook a gnome off his hand, causing it to fly at Ron's face. She could guess the curse words which he was clearly shouting at Harry who had doubled over laughing. Ron punched Harry lightly on the arm and dodged Harry's return. She watched them playfully roughhouse, trying not to let her eyes get too misty. These were the kinds of moments they'd had stolen from them and it was gratifying to see them make up for lost time.

"Hermione? Are you listening?" Mr. Weasley interrupted her thoughts.

"Oh, Mr. Weasley, I'm so sorry." She couldn't remember what they were supposed to be talking about.

He glanced out the window and patted her shoulder, getting up. "Oh, go on. You can tell me about the direction toilet water flushes later," he said, his eyes twinkling.

She headed outside and headed towards Harry and Ron, who had started throwing snowballs at each other.

"Hermione!" Harry cried.

She waved at them through the falling snow, grateful for the fact that she'd never even gotten a chance to take off her coat.

She hugged Harry tightly and sent a small wave to Ron who was still standing a bit away. He waved back and shuffled over to stand by them.

"Hey, Ron," she said, smiling at him.

He squeezed her hand lightly in response.

"Want to go into town and get a drink?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, brilliant," Ron said enthusiastically.

Hermione nodded.

Harry ran inside to see if Ginny wanted to come, leaving Hermione and Ron alone in the yard.

"Did you have a good trip? Did you have fun?" Ron asked quietly. "I mean, sorry. Fun isn't… How was it?"

Hermione looked up at Ron. He was blushing in that innocent and fumbling way that made her want to roll her eyes and hit him, but also make him forget what he'd said.

"It was fine. I'll tell you and Harry about it on the way."

"You seem better… than the last time. Was it? Better, I mean."

She knew what he meant by "better." She remembered how she'd ignored any questions about her trip and changing the subject casually. After biting Ginny's head off for pestering her head about it, no one had asked her any questions. She'd delved into everything to distract herself after getting back from her visit with her mother the first time. Hermione chided herself for thinking no one had seen through the façade.

"Yes, it was. Mum's come around."

"Good. You deserve a break."

She smiled up at him. "Thanks, Ron. I think we all do." She cursed their awkwardness, as they stood there in the falling snow, wondering why she couldn't be more like the girls in the movies. "How are things here?"

She could tell from his face that he correctly interpreted that to mean, "How are things here with the absence of Fred?"

He shrugged. "You know. Mum is happy to have us all here, but she's a lot more private than normal. Gets mad if you sneak up on her. Dad is driving me bonkers. He won't shut up. I've never heard him talk so much. You won't have to bunk with Gin this time, there's an open bed on the fifth floor. But I wouldn't complain if you did. She spends too much time alone with Harry for my stomach's sake."

Hermione silently interpreted: Mrs. Weasley is crying a lot and doesn't want to be caught. Mr. Weasley is overcompensating. George is staying in Ron's room still. Harry and Ginny are nauseatingly in love.

"Well, I suppose that's the best that can be expected. No one expected it to be an easy holiday," was all Hermione could think to say.

Harry and Ginny practically skipped out of the house, cheeks suspiciously flushed for having just been in a warm house, and Ginny's hair suspiciously mussed for having been engaged in a quiet game of chess.

Ron pretended to gag and Hermione giggled, personally finding their innocent and blinding love for each other quite adorable.

. . .

"Well, that's great, Hermione. I'm so happy things are improving," Ginny said, clasping Hermione's hands across the booth. "I know it's still an uphill battle, but I'm glad you opened up to us." Ron rubbed her shoulder and Harry nodded.

Hermione sniffed. She'd just finished telling them the whole story, in detail, including what she'd held back from the first time and exactly how she'd modified their memories. It had been painful to do, but she felt lighter for having admitted it all. She hadn't been able to look at them when she admitted to using the Imperius, but had seen Ginny nudge Harry suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. Ron had stilled when she'd mentioned the deal she'd made with Dumbledore.

"I can write your mum a letter and explain my version of… whatever you want," Harry offered. "I mean, if you think it would help."

"And I'm sure Neville would be willing to talk about how horrid it was at Hogwarts last year," Ginny chimed in.

Ron laughed, "And I bet ol' McGonagall would tell them all about how batty Dumbledore was. Mate, you know I have mad respect for him, but you can't deny he made some questionable choices when it came to children." Ron said, defending himself against Harry's glare.

Hermione couldn't stop the tears from falling. "Thanks, you guys. I think It'll be okay with just my version of events, but I'll let you know."

"Well, we're here for you, Ginny said, still squeezing her hand.

"Yes, I know. Okay, I don't want any more pity. You three think of a new topic while I grab another round!" Hermione jumped up from the table and escaped to the bar, trying to force the lump in her throat to reduce in size.

While the bartender poured them another pitcher, she turned to watch her friends. They looked so carefree. Ginny and Ron were bickering about a quidditch game they'd clearly played earlier in the week. Harry was laughing and ruffled his hair, like she noticed he only did in moments of pure peace.

When she sat back down, Ron took several huge gulps and belched loudly, causing the table of old ladies next to them to glare. Hermione scolded him and Harry tried to replicate it. Hermione shushed him, feeling embarrassed. But even her puritan embarrassment was beat when Ginny managed to outdo both of them with the most horrendous belch Hermione had ever heard. And, growing up between two boys, that was saying a lot.

As the four joked and chatted over the course of the next few hours, Hermione found herself slipping into a haze of peace and happiness. She noticed the casual way in which Harry was slouched against the wooden booth, as though he hadn't a care in the world and never had. Ginny's eyes flashed with excitement and determination as she recounted the Harpies practice she'd gone and watched earlier that week. Ron's cheeks were flushed pink and Hermione noted that he was funnier tonight than she could ever remember. His jokes were clever and smart, forsaking the typical sarcasm and immaturity he typically relied on.

What she would give for it to always be like this. Light and casual

"You alright, Hermione?" Ginny asked, after Ron and Harry had left to pay the tab.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry. You all just seem so… Happy."

Ginny cocked her head at Hermione. "Well, we are, I suppose."

"Well, I know that, but I guess I just worry everyone will break completely at any second." The buzz of the alcohol made her blurt it out before she even realized it was a thought.

"Hermione, I say this with love, but you need to fucking take a chill pill."

"Ginny!"

"Seriously. You kept us all together all summer. And you kept those idiots alive last year. And Merlin knows you've kept Harry on track for far longer than that. But, believe it or not, we're moving on. I'm not saying every day is easy. Some days I don't even want to get out of bed because I'm so angry and sad about everything. And there are times I know Harry can barely stand to be himself with everything he's seen. George said Ron has nightmares most nights. But while you've been frantically worrying that we're all pretending not to deal with our grief, you've missed the fact that we actually have been."

Hermione flushed. "I know you're all perfectly capable—"

Ginny grabbed her hand. "You're the mother of our group. You make sure we eat before matches. You strategically plan your studying schedules so that you're conveniently working on the things each of us has the most trouble with when it will be most helpful. You fuss when we don't dress warmly enough. You remind Harry to floo Andromeda and Teddy. You ask Ron about his family so he remembers to write. You worry about the underclassmen. For the love of skrewts, you visit Moaning Fucking Myrtle."

"I like taking care of my friends. What's wrong with that?" Hermione snapped.

"Nothing. I don't know what I'd do without you. Those two wouldn't have made it past First Year. All I'm saying is that I think you've forgotten to try to move on. That or you're using the rest of us as an excuse not to."

Hermione was speechless – and a bit offended.

"You and Harry are so similar. Harry tries to blindly protect everyone from the outside world. You try to protect everyone from themselves. But sometimes, you gotta face your own demons. No one can fight that battle for you. But, I promise, if you could fix it all, I'd let you. Look, they're waiting for us, so I'll cut to the chase. You're perfect and you should never change. We love you for the nagging, responsible, loveable Hermione you are. But stop walking on eggshells around everybody. No one likes being treated like they're fragile. Just think about how you'd feel if every time you have a bad day or get quiet, one of us acted like you were going to implode. I love you, just think about what I said, yeah?"

Hermione nodded, not sure what else to say. Hermione pulled her out of the booth and squeezed her hand.

"C'mon. If we're late for Celestina, mum will have a literal hippogriff."

Hermione followed her friends out of the bar and into the crisp December night, wondering if what Ginny had said was true – wondering if she'd missed out on a half-years' worth of happy moments by second guessing them.

Additionally, she couldn't shake the feeling that something just didn't feel right. She'd had fun listening to Harry pretend he wasn't going to miss Hogwarts and Ron and Ginny bickering. She found a strange sense of normalcy in scolding Ron for not taking his studies seriously and being annoyed at his continued auditory gassiness.

But all of a sudden, when Harry pulled Ginny into him as the snow started to fall harder, she could practically feel Ron fighting against the thick air between them as he went to grab her hand. Her hand felt clumsy and awkward in his. But it wasn't like the awkward exhilaration she'd felt in years before. She suddenly felt like she couldn't remember the last time she'd initiated contact with him. And she was flooded back to the way Harry had bobbed with excitement the day he'd left Australia for Hogwarts. He'd been bursting with excitement to see Ginny. And she'd barely thought about Ron at all the entire last week.

* * *

**Tuesday, December 29**

**Ron**

Once again, Ron found himself walking back from Ottery St. Catchpole with Hermione. Since Neville had been staying in town to be near Luna, they'd spent a considerable amount of time in the dusty bars of the muggle town.

Harry and Ginny usually stayed until closing and Neville typically walked Luna back to her father's house. So that left Ron and Hermione to trek back to the burrow alone."

It was the second night in a row of near non-existent conversation, and it was starting to make Ron bonkers.

Things just hadn't been right since she'd gone to Australia the first time. First, he'd been so distracted about George that he'd barely been able to make sense of what she was going through. Then, when she got back, she'd refused to talk about anything of substance. And then she'd gone into her typical pre-exam frenzy before the end of the term, before whisking away again. Since she'd been back, he'd felt strange. More disconnected than he had in Sixth Year when they weren't talking.

Ron was no genius when it came to girls. He had no idea what they meant half the time, and he rarely knew the top 10 percent of what was going on in her brain. But these days, he felt like they were separated by an ocean.

Worst of all, it didn't really bother him at all.

Of course, she was one of his best friends. But they had never been close like she and Harry had been. They had always had a silent and steady connection. He made her laugh. She saved his ass. He drove her crazy. She made him laugh.

He thought about the way her hand felt in his and the way he'd felt that day in Hogsmeade so many months ago. Then, their proximity had been nerve wracking. He'd been terrified, sure if she'd looked into his eyes, she'd see right through him. He felt the same now, but for a different reason. Then, he'd been embarrassed. This time, he was afraid.

He heard her sharp inhale and couldn't shake the feeling she'd been staring at him.

She said nothing so he kept quiet as well.

He could just barely make out the lights of the Burrow over the hill when he heard his name, coming off of her lips in the meekest, most un-Hermione voice he'd ever heard.

He looked over at her and she looked terrified.

"I think… we need to talk," she said softly.

He nodded. "Yeah, I think so too."

"You do?" she asked, surprised.

He nodded up into the falling snow. "You're not happy, are you?" His unspoken "with me" hung between them.

She shook her head and whispered, "Are you?"

Ron shrugged. He wasn't unhappy. But "not unhappy" wasn't exactly the description of the fairy tale relationship anyone hoped for.

Hermione nodded to herself like she'd heard his whole internal dialogue.

"I can't lose you again," she said, her voice cracking.

"I'm not going anywhere," Ron said and grabbed her hand.

She launched herself at him and buried her face in his chest. "I just thought it would always be different, you know? All the times we fought and everything else. I just always figured that if we got together it would be different. It would be easy and perfect. But it just feels so weird. Why doesn't it feel like it did back in the fall? And what if we can't be friends anymore? I can't do that. I don't think I could be okay without you. And I never worried about that before because I just figured everything would work out. I never considered…"

"That it wouldn't work out?" Ron supplied

She sniffed and cried harder. Ron didn't really know what to say, so he just patted her hair quietly. As always, Hermione knew everything. And she knew how to perfectly voice what was going on inside his head.

A sad chuckle escaped his throat before being able to stop himself.

"Sorry."

"What's funny?" she asked, looking at him in surprise.

"Nothing. I was just thinking that this is the first time we've ever been on the same page about something."

She sniffled and buried her face in her hands. "That's not true."

"It was a joke, Hermione." He shook her shoulder a little.

She removed her glove to wipe her eyes. "We both thought Harry was crazy about Malfoy being a Death Eater."

"And that Snape was the one trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone," Ron added with a smile.

"And that I was an insufferable know it all back then," she said softly.

They walked a little way further.

"Were we stupid?" Hermione asked.

"About what?" Ron responded.

"That this could ever work. It seems so foolhardy now."

Ron considered this. He thought back over everything. The way he'd lain awake at night when he was staying with Bill after he'd left, worrying about what he'd do if anything happened when he wasn't here to help. How mad he'd been at her that she'd went to the Yule Ball with Krum. How mad he'd been at himself that he hadn't thought to ask her first. How it had shaken him to his core to realize he was jealous of Krum. How happy he'd been with Lavender but how much happier he'd been when he and Hermione had started talking again. How fun that day in Hogsmeade had been. No, it didn't seem foolhardy at all.

He thought back earlier that year, her screaming at him in the hallway to make who she dated his business. He'd been so scared to follow through then. What would it feel like to be that honest? But if after everything they'd been through, he couldn't be honest, here, with his best friend, in the middle of the night, when could he?

"No. You were all I ever wanted."

She squeezed his hand. "Then why didn't it work?"

Ron shrugged. "You've got me."

They walked the way back to the Burrow and paused in the courtyard.

"Hermione?" He asked.

"Hm?"

"Uh," he rubbed the back of his neck, one question burning in his mind. "When… When did you know?"

Her eyes widened a fraction, and she was quiet for a long time. "I don't… want to say. I don't want to hurt you."

"It's alright, I promise." Ron closed his eyes and hoped he would be able to keep that promise.

"Uh, while I was gone. In Australia. I realized… I didn't miss you. I didn't really think about you... and… That's… That's how I knew."

Her statement hung in the air like their breaths. It stung, but he'd asked for it.

"I mean, of course, I missed you. But not… like that, I don't think. Whenever I thought of you, it was more like… I missed just hanging out here at the Burrow with you and Harry. I wondered if you'd finished wrapping your presents or if you'd need me to do them when I got back. I played chess with Mum. She swept the floor with me, and I thought of you. Someone at the hospital had an orange rugby jersey on and I thought it had been a Cannons jersey. I wished you'd been there to cheer me up. You should have seen…" she shook her head. "Anyway. I just realized that I didn't miss the romantic stuff. I just wanted my friend there."

The hairline fracture in Ron's heart grew just a tiny bit wider. He knew exactly what she meant. There was something about hearing it out loud that made him so much sadder.

"What about you?" she asked, nervously.

He studied her, unsure how to answer. But, after all, she'd been honest with him. He closed his eyes and steadied his breath. "If I'm honest with myself… I think I knew deep down when I wasn't jealous. When you'd spent the afternoon with Malfoy after we had that at fight about the match. I didn't know what bothered me more – the fact that you had or that it didn't bother me at all."

Her face froze and he saw a subtle blush creep up her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Ron."

He cocked his head. "There's nothing to be sorry about."

She studied him for a long time, finally lightly laughing nervously. "Well, what do we do now?"

"Go inside. I'm bloody frozen."

"That's not what I—"

"I know what you meant, Hermione. I don't know. I s'pose we just carry on."

She nodded and they entered the house. It was dark and quiet. Everyone else must have already gone to bed. They silently climbed the stairs until they reached Hermione's floor.

Hermione pulled her hand out of his. "Well, I'm this way."

She turned to head into her room.

"Hermione?" Ron said softly. She turned back and he tried to ignore how suspiciously reflective her eyes were in the dim light of the house. "I'm… sorry too."

She nodded. "Goodnight, Ron."

The fracture grew a little wider when he realized it sounded like "goodbye."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

He trudged back down the stairs, suddenly not in the mood to sleep. He sat back on the armchair next to the fire and watched the embers glow, trying to ignore the lump in his throat that was telling him to head back up to the fifth floor and take it all back. But he knew it was the right thing. There was a very tiny piece of him that felt a huge sense of relief at how the evening had turned out.

But it didn't stop his eyes from watering.

* * *

***Claps Hands***

**Well, now that that's taken care of...**


	27. Serious Solutions

**Chapter 27: Serious Solution** **s**

* * *

**Thursday, December 31**

**Draco**

Draco watched the steam of his breath and the smoke of his second cigarette mingle in the frosty evening air. He leant against the brick wall and focused on the feel of the distant bass beat of some muggle pop song.

Theo had dragged him out for New Year's Eve and had insisted that the muggles knew how to celebrate better than wizards did. If Draco had been in a different mood, he would have enjoyed the dark club and pounding music. The dancing, not so much. But Draco had yet to find a dark corner booth he didn't like.

He took another long drag and watched a couple stumble down an alley and fall into each other.

He checked his watch – 6 minutes till. Theo had told him to be back by the stroke of midnight; that he'd secured New Year's kisses for both of them. So, Draco lit another cigarette, wondering how long he could make this one last. He didn't really care about whatever wide-eyed girls Theo had managed to seduce.

"Oi! I like this song, get your ass in here before I miss the whole thing."

Draco looked up lazily to see Theo standing at the entrance to the club with his hands on his hips. He choked back a laugh. Theo looked thoroughly disheveled and was standing with his hands on his hips like an incensed middle-aged lady.

"I'm just finishing up. I'll be in a few."

Theo marched over and leaned against the wall next to him. "Can I bum one?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You can't complain about my smoking if you do it too."

"How many have you gone through out here?"

"Just this one," Draco lied.

"Sure. And Hogwarts has just the one founder. Ahhhhhh" Theo groaned in pleasure at his first drag. Draco thought he caught something about "never should have quit" on his breath.

They stood there in silence for a while.

Dimly, Draco noticed that the music from inside had stopped. The DJ was talking enthusiastically.

"That'll be the countdown," Theo mentioned, glancing at the door.

"Well, go on then. I'm sure those girls are missing you." Draco had zero intention of reentering the club. He glanced over at Theo who had settled back against the wall.

"You owe me a New Year's kiss for this, you know."

Draco shoved him. "Fuck off."

They stood in silence and listened to the countdown. At the end, the crowd in the club cheered and the music started up again.

"Happy New Year, mate." Theo raised up a flask and offered it to Draco who took a long sip.

The couple emerged from the alley looking suspiciously tousled. In the middle of the street, the man placed a sloppy kiss on the woman's mouth and whispered something in her ear. They both giggled and hurried back into the club.

Draco couldn't stop his mind from imagining another New Year's kiss. A bushy haired brunette entwined with her ginger boyfriend. He banished the thought and tried to ignore the sinking feeling that had reappeared. He noticed Theo staring at him.

"What?" he spat, a bit too aggressively.

Theo shrugged. "Just wondering if you're still too stubborn to admit it."

"Admit what?"

"Merlin, you're such a cliché. Well, when you want to talk about her, you know where to find me."

Draco tried to ignore the way his insides squirmed. "Who?"

Theo turned to face him. "Ignorance doesn't suit you, Draco. You've been moping around like a lost puppy ever since we got back."

"I don't mope."

Theo scoffed but didn't say anything else.

Draco silently fumed. He certainly had not been moping. Well, not intensely so.

His mother had been fairly despondent all week. She wouldn't admit it, but he knew it was hard for her to reconcile her feelings about and anger with his father. They loved each other deeply, after all. And Theo was always depressed around the holidays because of his mother. Draco had felt weird all holiday. The previous two Christmases had been less than pleasant, what with the Dark Lord darkening their lives. Yet, reminiscing back to happier times prior felt equally uncomfortable.

Plus, there was the added challenge of being bored out of his fucking mind.

Bored ever since they got back.

 _Bored without her_ , his subconscious interjected, not for the first time that evening.

He rubbed his temple with his spare hand. When this train of thought had emerged, he didn't know. His mind wouldn't fucking shut up about her. He'd read a book and wonder what she'd think about it. The _Prophet_ would print something idiotic and he'd imagine her rolling her eyes and waving her hands with indignation. He'd adjust his collar and remember the ghost of her fingers on the back of his neck. He'd see a couple making out and he'd feel sick to his stomach imagining who she'd be kissing.

He didn't know when it started. All he knew was the surprising disappointment he'd felt when she stumbled through the floo at the Ministry to the Burrow instead of back with them to which he'd become accustomed.

The Manor had felt cold and lifeless with just the three of them, no tornado of dialogue to distract him. He'd scolded himself at the thought. Like she'd ever set foot there again.

An "oversized coffin," she'd called it. He chuckled.

"For Merlin's sake, Draco. You're fucking hopeless," Theo scoffed.

"What?" Draco hissed. "Bugger off if you don't like my company."

"Are you really going to make me say it?"

Draco studied the grout between the bricks.

"Okay, fine. I tried to be patient, but I've reached my limit." Theo came to stand directly in front of him. "I know you're the strong and silent type, but I think, in this case, talking about it might make you feel better."

Draco doubted it.

"What. Are. You. Going. To. Do. About. Granger." Theo gave him a gentle shake on his shoulder.

Draco opened his mouth, but Theo interrupted him.

"And I swear on Slytherin's saggy left nut, if you start to deny it, I'll tell the whole school you fancy Filch."

Draco glared at him and lit another cigarette.

 _You're going to have to quit again._ Draco had been forced to quit smoking when he'd been hauled off to Azkaban. He'd occasionally pick one up after a particularly stressful day or after a good buzz. But he'd been sucking them down like they were a life force ever since they'd gotten back. _Plus, she'd HATE it._

He groaned and banged his head against the wall.

"I don't know when I… I don't know when it started, okay?" he nearly shouted.

"Well, admitting it is the first step, mate."

"I don't know what to do about it," Draco groaned. "Do you think… How'd you know?" Draco asked, sure he didn't want to know the answer.

He couldn't believe they were actually talking about this. They'd never discussed girls before. He'd never done this with anyone. He wanted to apparate away and lock himself in his room. But Theo knew how to get around the wards on his room and he'd rather have this conversation in the dark.

"Draco, I've known you your whole life. I know when you like someone."

"But I don't _want_ to like her! She's the worst. She's…" _perfect_ , his subconscious interjected. "It's not like I've been pining after her for years. I just woke up one day and all I could think about was…"

"Sucking her face off like that couple over there?" Draco shot him a withering glare. "And, no, I don't think she has any idea," he said answering Draco's unvoiced question.

They stood in silence for a little while.

"You could always, you know… _tell her_." Theo said softly.

Draco scoffed. "Please. Present a serious solution."

Theo rolled his eyes at Draco. "Alright, fine. You've made tremendous progress tonight. We'd better get home before you strain something."

* * *

**Saturday, January 9**

**Harry**

Harry tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Ron, Hermione, and Ginny pack up their trunks for the train ride back to Hogwarts. Tomorrow, they'd be heading back on the Hogwarts Express. He would not.

Hermione, of course, had already finished packing. She sat reading a novel by Ron's window, though he noticed that she was staring out the window rather than reading.

He glanced over to Ginny and Ron who were bickering about whose packing was taking up more room on the bed.

Thankfully, things hadn't been horribly awkward between all of them. Hermione had barged into his room quite early one morning to inform him that she "and Ronald have decided we're better as friends" and that she'd appreciate it if no one was weird about it. Ron had not said anything about it. Harry hadn't asked. For the first time that break, he'd been a little thankful he wasn't going back. Ron and Hermione had never made it easier on anyone around them when it came to their… whatever it was. But they'd behaved, for the most part. Everything seemed very formal, but he suspected that would go away eventually.

Ginny had wanted to gossip about it, but Harry had refused. He'd spent eight years trying not to get in the middle of them, and this didn't seem like a good time to stop.

"Okay, I have something I need to say!" Hermione said suddenly, startling Harry and ending a squabble between Ginny and Ron about who should get the last chocolate frog.

Everyone looked at her. She looked absolutely terrified. Her eyes were wide, and her hands were alternating between running through her hair and wringing in her lap.

"Is everything okay, Hermione?" Ginny asked, sitting down on the bed next to her.

"I just, I feel so… I just can't have it be a secret. And I think you'll be mad, but I can't lie. And maybe it's not that big of a deal, but I just know how…"

Harry was starting to feel a bit concerned. "Hermione, what's going on?"

She buried her face in her hands before taking a deep breath. "Okay, well I just hope you'll remember that I didn't really have that much choice. And even if I did, I don't really regret it because it turned out alright. But still, you can't fly off the handle. And you have to promise not to interrupt me."

Harry thought to himself that he didn't think they'd be able to if they wanted. When Hermione started to babble like this no one stood a chance to get a word in edgewise.

Harry nodded at her and Ginny gave her shoulder a gentle rub. Ron, Harry noticed, was taking more care of folding his socks than he could ever remember.

"Well when I was down there, I was visiting mum and she asked me to go and get some tea. Which looking back, I should have just asked one of the healers to do, because they did offer. But I always feel weird letting people wait on me like that. You know? I mean they have so much to do, the least I can do is fetch my own tea. So anyway, I was heading back and I ran into, and I mean literally ran into the Malfoys. I know, I couldn't believe they were there either. But I guess they came down for that sodding gala that Malfoy got invited to after donating all that gold. I never even bothered to ask when the gala was, not that I guess I would have. I was so mad at him for butting into my life like that. But if I had asked, then I would have known to make myself scarce because it's not like I _wanted_ to spend time with him. I mean, he's not as bad as he used to be, but he's by no means my favorite person or anything. And then, of course, his mother was with him, which was… because the last time I saw her was… well, you remember the Manor… Anyway, it was just so awkward and mum made me introduce them and…"

Hermione took a long breath.

"So… did Malfoy do something to you?" Ginny asked hesitantly.

"No, no. Not at all. What I wanted to… not confess because it's not like I did anything wrong. But so, they were there for that stupid gala and once Narcissa knew I was in town for a while she _insisted_ that I go with them. So, I did. It was this silly fundraising thing with a silent auction and the dedication and all."

"Dedication?" Harry asked

"Yeah, since Malfoy donated all that money, they named a wing after him. That's why he got invited, so they could stroke his ego."

Harry had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Something like déjà vu, but not quite. He felt like he ought to be having some feeling about all this, but he couldn't quite place it. Ginny had her head cocked in Hermione's direction, looking curious. He didn't dare look over at Ron.

"Well, that's great, Hermione." Ginny said. "Did you… have fun?"

Hermione nodded weakly. "It wasn't all bad, I suppose. I did get to meet some really influential people. You know, making connections and all that. And Narcissa is really nice, actually. I don't know, the whole thing is weird. That Theo bloke was there too. I guess he spends most holidays with them. I mean, it was a gala, which I hate. All those people asking me questions. Of course, most of them knew who I was, and they wanted to know how I feel about being so famous at such a young age and what I was wearing and all that drivel. I think the main reason that the hospital administrator wanted me there was to advance his career. He wanted me to meet with the Australian prime minister and help them organize a self-defense extracurricular study since they don't put such an emphasis over there. Thankfully… well I didn't end up having to. I'm sure I will in the future. He said he'd owl me and wanted me to set up a floo call with you, Harry. But overall, it wasn't so bad, I suppose."

Harry studied her. "That Theo bloke," she'd said. And suddenly everything clunked into place. He had completely forgotten having a conversation with Theo before they'd left. Something about Hermione and Malfoy being "obtuse." He cringed to himself, something else about "repressed sexual tension."

"Well, what _did_ you wear?" Ginny asked.

Hermione blushed. "Oh well, that's the _other_ thing. Narcissa absolutely insisted that I let her buy me a gown to wear. I said I could just transfigure something, but it was no use." She fished around in her bag and produced a polaroid picture which she handed shyly over to Ginny.

"Wow! Hermione! You look stunning. And you look so much like your mum! God, I hope we all age like that." Ginny exclaimed. "Did she do your hair and makeup? It looks so much better than that time you let me do it. I'm too heavy handed for you. See, boys?" Ginny brandished the picture at them.

Harry investigated. She did, indeed, look very nice. He mumbled something complimentary. Ron stared at it for a few seconds before saying "I just don't think I'll ever get used to muggle pictures not moving."

Harry could practically see the wheels turning in Ginny's head. She'd realized her mistake. It was a bit awkward to make one ogle a picture of their ex.

"And, I swear, nothing untoward happened. It wasn't like a date, or anything. Of course, that was before…" she glanced nervously at Ron. "Well, anyway, it was just unlucky that they even knew I was there. If I'd never run into them, they'd never have even known I was there, and we could have just… ignored each other. But that's the way it happened. And I've been beside myself thinking of how angry you'd all be that I spent time with the Malfoys." She stared at her feet.

He'd been so preoccupied that he'd forgotten Theo had meant that they fancied each other. He thought he could feel his brain cramping at this idea.

"So… what did you think? That we'd hate you because you went to a stupid gala with him and his mum?" Ginny asked, trying to keep humor out of her voice.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, yes, I guess. I just… It's not like he's exactly… in our little friend group or anything. I mean, I know Harry that you've… I don't know if you've forgiven him, but you're on civil terms at least. I think we all are. But I guess I just felt guilty."

"Uh, it's alright, Hermione," Harry sputtered. "I honestly feel like there are more important things to worry about… And I'm sorry if you thought we'd be mad about you spending a little time with him…"

She glanced over at Ron again. "Well, I did spend… I did see them a few more times while I was there. And we shared a portkey home."

Ron began folding his socks again.

Distantly, Harry recognized that Hermione and Ginny were talking about the details of the gala and her outfit.

"Er, thanks for telling us, Hermione. But we're not upset," Harry said, as Ginny led her out of the room, presumably to see the dress in Hermione's trunk.

Ginny nodded enthusiastically and cleared her throat in Ron's direction. He mumbled something about "no worries."

The door shut and there were approximately six seconds of absolute silence before Ron went downstairs "for lunch" and Harry was left to, for the second time, consider the unsettling possibility of Hermione and Malfoy as… an item?

He tried to distract himself with a Quidditch magazine, but it didn't hold his attention as. Phrases like "they're both really academic" and "equally ambitious" popped into his mind.

He rubbed his temple. Would he really care? He hadn't hesitated for a moment to testify at Malfoy and Narcissa's trials. Did he think Malfoy was a prat? Yes. Did he think Malfoy's actions, years 1-6 were absolutely inexcusable? Essentially, yes. Had he been anything less than polite this year? Not that Harry could tell.

Dudley's words from one of his letters came to mind. "I never thought not to." But if Hermione, who had arguably been harmed the most by that family out of all of them, could find it in herself to forgive and accept him, then what good did it do to try to hold a grudge?

It hurt his head.

He decided to join Ron at lunch – despite the fact that it was only 10:30 a.m.

* * *

Thank you all for reading!


	28. Just Settle Down Everyone

I'm so sorry for being a week late, ya'll. Life just got in the way.

* * *

**Chapter 28 - Just Settle Down Everyone**

* * *

**Sunday, January 10**

**Harry**

Harry felt uncomfortably useless. Ginny wouldn't let him push her cart for her. Hermione had become such an expert in light packing and shrinking and extension charms that she didn't even need one. Everything she needed was stored neatly in a suitcase, charmed nearly weightless. And he wouldn't have offered to help Ron with his. All of his belongings were precariously piled and Harry didn't fancy being the reason for them to crash to the ground.

He passed through Platform 9 ¾ last of the four of them, the only one not toting belongings to stow away on the Hogwarts Express which would whisk the away to the ancient school.

They stood in a secluded corner quietly.

Ron broke the awkward silence after a few moments. "Well, shall we?"

Hermione nodded and he heard Ginny sniffle.

Ron clapped him on the back. "Come see us in Hogsmeade, yeah?"

Harry nodded and heard Ron clear his throat as he walked away, cursing as a bag of books toppled over.

Ginny gave him a long hug. "You'll be alright, Harry. Onward and upward. Give 'em hell at the Ministry."

He hugged her tightly and deeply breathed in the scent of her hair. She rumpled his hair and gave him a kiss before shouting that she loved him and bouncing off.

Hermione had set down her suitcase and stared at him with her arms crossed, a slightly disapproving but amused smile ghosting on her face. "And you're sure there's nothing I can say to convince you to finish your education?"

He shook his head. "I think it's time I started on a new adventure."

She studied him seriously. "I think we've had enough adventure for a lifetime."

Harry shrugged playfully. "Maybe I'm broken."

Hermione rolled her eyes and embraced him in a tight hug. "Well, you know McGonagall will let you back if you change your mind."

He nodded.

"Well, you must write and tell us everything. You will, Harry, won't you?"

He looked at her and had to stifle a laugh. "Oh yeah, every week," he laughed.

She groaned. "You're such a tosser.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Be careful. And… be happy, Harry."

He gave her a shove and waved her off.

She turned on her heel and hurried towards the train. She turned back at the last second to give him a small wave, her eyes swimming with tears. He swallowed heavily.

A few cars down, he caught sight of Malfoy entering the train. Malfoy must have felt his gaze because he turned to look at Harry. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him before smirking and nodding in his direction. Harry nodded back.

He turned his gaze back to the window where Hermione had joined Ron. They were both waving as the engines of the Hogwarts Express started up.

He glanced back at the car into which Malfoy had just disappeared. He had a strange urge to run up to the window and warn Hermione… Warn her of what, he wasn't sure. Not to be careful. Well, perhaps, yes. To be cautious. To tread carefully.

The train lurched out of the station and he waved with all of the other parents and siblings at it disappeared around the curve and out of sight.

Harry sank onto a bench and watched the well-wishers disappear one by one.

Before long, he was the only one left on the platform. He associated Platform 9 ¾ with bustling crowds, excited chatter, and nervous energy. Now it was peaceful and empty. He'd never been here when it was like this. He made to get up, but realized that he actually had, well at least in a way.

The longer he sat, the more he could feel a gentle and twinkling presence. The same one he'd felt the last time he'd found himself on the Platform, seemingly alone.

Harry smiled.

_The ones we love never truly leave us._

* * *

**Hermione**

It did feel strange to ride the train without Harry.

It was even stranger that this was the last time she'd ride it to Hogwarts.

Unable to concentrate on the NEWT prep she'd planned to do, she stared out the window. Eventually, Ginny turned up with Luna who challenged Ron to a game of chess. Later, the car was full of their other friends. Neville was chattering on about the end of year Herbology project. Seamus and Dean were arguing with Ron about Quidditch teams. Luna and Ginny read a fashion magazine together and gossiped about celebrity love triangles.

Still, Hermione stared out of the window.

What would these last few months be like? What would she do after?

Contrary to what most people would believe, she didn't actually have it all planned out. If you'd asked her back in Second or Third Year, she would have said she wanted to do an apprenticeship or get an entry level job with the Ministry, before embarking on continuing education, either muggle or magical. Then she'd eventually try to get a leadership position with a charitable organization or in the Ministry.

But now? It all seemed very overwhelming. And the end of the school year seemed a lot closer on this side of winter break.

She could have continued the overthinking, but she closed her eyes and made a great effort to file the train of thought away for another time. She leaned her head against the glass of the window and watched the countryside fly past, listening to the happy chatter around them.

But she couldn't entirely shut off her brain.

The train to Hogwarts after winter break always felt different than the one in September.

She typically spent the ride planning for exams. If she wasn't stressing and fussing about coursework, she was plotting and debating with Harry and Ron about whatever nefarious things were stalking them at the castle.

It wasn't the first time since the end of the war that she felt like she had excess energy and not sure what to do with it.

Her throat burned with the grief of the loss of their innocence.

_What if all the train rides had been like this?_

She tried her meditation techniques. _Let the thoughts in. Acknowledge them and set them aside for another time. They don't need to be dealt with now._

She heard Ron's raucous laughter and looked over to see him in the middle of a playful roughhouse match with Seamus. He caught her eye and his smile faltered a millimeter.

She groaned and turned back to the window.

 _And then there's_ that _._

What was she going to do about Ron? It had been the right choice. She knew him well enough to know that he also had thought it was the right choice. And he had seemed more at ease since they'd ended it. Well, more at ease unless he saw her there. She'd watched him shadows and around corners as he chatted with Harry and his family or went about his daily tasks. Grumbling about whatever Mrs. Weasley had asked him to do. Eating sloppily. Making crude jokes with George. Making fun of Ginny and Harry. Reading sprawled out on the couch, taking up an exorbitant amount of room. Gloating devilishly any time he won whatever game he was winning. Generally bumbling through life with that sunny good natured but easily annoyed attitude that were all the best parts of him.

She'd missed that Ron.

She didn't realize that those little quirks started to disappear around her.

She was happy they were back – happy he was acting more like himself.

But it stung that the only person who still didn't get to see that version was her. But perhaps that was her punishment – the sacrifice she had to make.

_Set it aside._

Once the setting sun turned the sky orange, Ginny came to sit across from her and mirrored her position, setting her cheek against the glass.

"Isn't it pretty?" Luna asked.

Hermione hummed.

Ginny grumbled. "Always thought the sunset just made me look like a giant carrot. You know, ginger mane and all."

Luna launched into a monologue about the psychology of the colors of the sunset.

Hermione chuckled.

They sat together, watching the sun disappear below the horizon. It had been an unusual sunny day. It made her excited for spring.

Finally, the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. They all began gathering their things and exited the train. Hagrid was there, just like always, pointing students in the direction of the carriages. He waved at them jovially.

Luna had flounced off to join her house mates. Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville were grouped together, still arguing about the upcoming World Cup outcomes.

Ginny held out her arm. "M'lady."

Hermione laughed. "I guess it's just us chickens."

Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"Nevermind. It's just something my mom used to—" Hermione broke off at the sight of an owl heading straight for them.

It was a stern looking screech owl, outfitted in a yellow and black flying vest.

Ginny gasped and clapped her hands to her mouth. "Oh my goodness."

"What?" Hermione asked.

The owl flew right at them and landed on Ginny's shoulder, holding out its leg. Ginny grabbed the bright yellow envelope and turned it over where there was a large black seal in the shape of two twisting "W"s.

"It's…" she looked down at Hermione with wide eyes. "It's from the Wasps."

"Oh!" Hermione had honestly forgotten about her tryout. It had been while she was still down in Australia. Ginny had said it had gone well and hadn't wanted to talk much about it.

"They said I wouldn't hear from them for at least a month. I wasn't expecting…"

Hermione had never seen Ginny so nervous. "Come on. Let's get a carriage and you can read it on the way up." Hermione offered a treat to the owl who hooted and flew off. Ginny reluctantly climbed into the carriage as Hermione levitated all of their luggage into it.

Halfway up to the castle, Ginny still hadn't opened it.

"Well, are you going to read it?"

Ginny shoved the letter at Hermione.

"I can't do it. You read it," Ginny squeaked.

Eyeing Ginny cautiously, Hermione carefully tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter. She cleared her throat. "Dear Ginny: Thank you for joining us for a tryout last month. It was a pleasure to get to know you and have you play with us for the day. However, we regr—"

Before Hermione could even read the next word, Ginny had reached out, quick as a flash, grabbed the letter, and stowed it away in her school bag. She now sat, staring resolutely out at the lake.

"Ginny…" Hermione wasn't sure what to say.

"It's fine. I knew it was a long shot."

Hermione stood up carefully in the moving carriage and sat on the other side of the carriage and put her arm around her friend.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. But there will be other chances. Harry told me you've received letters of interest from at least three other teams, one in America."

Ginny mumbled something generally inaudible, but Hermione caught a few words "don't see… any different."

"Oh, come on! You're brilliant. I don't even understand half of Quidditch and even I know that."

Ginny sniffed.

Hermione stroked her hair. "Plus, I never really liked yellow anyway. And you always said you look terrible in it. Now we don't have to sport it every weekend at your matches."

Ginny laughed weekly and wiped her eyes.

"Promise me you'll allow yourself to wallow briefly and then turn it into that famous Ginny Weasley veracity that makes us all quake in our boots."

Ginny nodded.

"Thanks, Hermione."

Hermione gave her shoulders a squeeze.

They arrived up at the castle and disembarked the carriage.

Hermione sighed contentedly at the sight of the Great Hall.

"Guess they do kind of look like idiots in all that stupid yellow and black, huh?" Ginny grumbled, jerking her head in the direction of the Hufflepuff table.

Hermione stifled a giggle as a group of Hufflepuffs walked past them and glared.

"But, still, it would've been pretty cool," Ginny sighed.

Hermione nodded. The stopped at the front of the Gryffindor table. Should they sit with Ron? Maybe he'd want space? Parvati was sitting down a bit with some Sixth Years. Hermione glanced back at Ginny. She was standing there, looking so dejected. She wasn't sure if it was more due to letter or the absence of Harry. Probably a combination of the two. She cast around a glance, determined to distract her from her troubles for the duration of the evening.

Finally, her gaze landed on two young Gryffindor girls with sandy blonde hair. One was gazing excitedly around the room, chattering away. The other was staring at the plate in front of her, wringing her hands in her lap.

Determination and recognition flooded through Hermione. _Perfect._

"C'mon, Ginny. I want you to meet a friend of mine," Hermione said, towing Ginny down the table.

* * *

**Tuesday, January 12**

**Draco**

Draco pushed his shepherd's pie around his plate. It wasn't his favorite. It was, however, Pansy's. She sat next to him, making obscene noises as she inhaled her dinner.

"Would you shut up, Pansy? Not everyone at the table needs to know what you sound like in bed," Draco snapped.

She scoffed at him. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

Draco grumbled and tore into another roll.

Theo cleared his throat. "Pansy? Any idea why Ron Weasley is staring at the back of your head?"

Draco practically choked on his cider.

"How do you know he's not staring at Draco?"

Theo glared at her. Pansy was playing frustratingly innocent."

"Because every time you move your head, he jerks his gaze away."

Pansy cut herself another serving. "Probably because my ass looks particularly good today."

Draco could practically hear Theo rolling his eyes.

"Seriously. It's been every meal so far."

She sighed and looked over her shoulder briefly.

"I could be wrong… but it might be because I told him about my father and how he was responsible for the twin."

Draco froze. He looked over at her. Theo was staring at her with an open mouth.

"When… When did this happen?" Draco exclaimed.

Pansy shrugged. "Towards the end of the semester. I bumped into him and he was alone for once and I was feeling a desire to unload all my demons."

They both gaped at her.

"And…" Theo prodded.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Well, as you can imagine, it went great. I told him it was my family's fault they have one less brother. Oh, and I insulted Longbottom and told him that while I don't like him, I guess I'm not upset that he isn't dead."

Draco shook his head and turned back to his dinner, picking the peas out.

"Well, for fuck's sake, Pansy. No wonder he's staring daggers at you. Could you have mucked it up any better if you tried?" Theo was exasperated.

Pansy downed the last of her pumpkin juice. "All I said was that I'd decided to get it off my chest, not that I planned to be nice to him."

Theo slammed his fist on the table, startling a group of Second Years seated nearby. "I've had it up to here with the both of you!"

Draco threw down his fork. "The fuck did I do?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "You're worse than she is. Sulking and brooding and being generally unpleasant to everybody just because you think you can't have what you want." Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Theo was quicker. "Both of you need to grow up. Pansy, you'd better apologize to Ron for being such a bitch. You know full well that you should have been nicer. And you don't get to be pissy because he didn't forgive you. You're the one who decided he needed to have this knowledge. I'm sure he was perfectly happy to go about life not knowing any of the details. He doesn't owe you anything because YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING. Your father was the madman, not you." He took a deep breath and rounded on Draco. "And, you. Eat your fucking shepherd's pie. You're the only one on earth that doesn't like it. It's delicious and you look like a picky little snot nosed kid. And for Merlin's sake, stop picking out all the vegetables." Theo swung his legs out from the bench and stormed away from the table before either could retort.

"Uh oh," Pansy sang. "We made daddy mad again."

Draco rolled his eyes and took a chance glance over his shoulder at the Gryffindor table.

He'd made the mistake of sitting facing the table at dinner the first two meals back. The smug look on Theo's face made it obvious that Draco wasn't as stealthy as he thought he'd been.

He'd been fascinated by the way the Gryffindor dynamics had changed now that Boy Wonder was gone.

Though he was grateful for the change. He'd always been annoyed at overt public displays of affection and the Gryffindors were the worst of all. Potter and Girl Weasley had always been hanging off of each other at the table. But now with him gone, it seemed she needed some extra attention because she and Granger spent all free time together. Barely leaving any time for Weasel Face.

_Maybe they're in a snit._

He fought a smirk at the thought. It was true, he hadn't really seen them spend that much time together since term began again. But, his subconscious unwelcomely reminded him, they never really did act like a couple that much last semester either.

Of course, they had all evening in Gryffindor together. Rumor had it, one of the Ravenclaw Prefects had figured out a way around the charm keeping boys out of the girls' dormitories. There was only one other Gryffindor girl in their year. And Parvati spent almost all her time with Padma. That would make it easy for them to spend the night together and make up for keeping it so casual during the day.

 _And she probably slept in his room all break_.

That wiped the smirk off his face. He took a huge bite of dinner to distract himself from imagining the various activities they could engage in on the Weasley's property. Though he knew their house was small, the Weasley land was almost as large as the Malfoy property.

_Great._

He glanced back again. She was sitting with the younger Gryffindor girls again. Granger was waving her finger over the dinner table, the younger of the blond sister's following it with her eyes. Draco recognized it as the motion for Alohamora. Girl Weasley was bent over several sheets of parchment, scribbling furiously.

Pansy cleared her throat next to him.

"Ready Draco?"

He nodded, grabbed his bag, and followed Pansy towards the back of Great Hall.

Pansy was jabbering on about the fashion connections she'd made in Italy over the break. As they passed between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, Granger looked up at them. She sent him a small smile, before turning back to the lesson she was giving.

His stomach summersaulted.

He cursed his luck.

* * *

Thanks for reading and for all of your lovely reviews. They make my day every time :)


	29. Green Ribbons

**Tuesday, January 19**

**Draco**

Draco was hiding in the "Hufflepuff" corner of the newly debuted student commons with Theo. Their planning group had specifically designed the room so that students wouldn't really be able to congregate by houses. But certain aspects of the room attracted students from each house. Indeed, the huge tree in one corner of the room was particularly inviting to the Hufflepuffs.

Also, Draco suspected many students were having trouble embracing the concept. Most students really only hung out with their house mates. A select few would date from other houses or have friends from before they came to Hogwarts.

Truthfully, Draco didn't even want to be here. Longbottom had come up with the grand idea that the four of them on the planning committee should "set an example" and spend at least a couple hours in the student commons each day for the first few weeks. He'd also recruited all of the school prefects.

So, for the ninth day in a row he had to study here instead of in a deserted library corner or some abandoned classroom.

He'd grown tired of sitting nearby the aquarium because younger students kept coming by to gawk loudly at the water and fish. He certainly wasn't brave enough to camp out in front of the roaring floor-to-ceiling fireplace in the "Gryffindor" section. That just left the quiet library type space of Ravenclaw or the sunny greenhouse inspired corner of Hufflepuff. Originally, he'd made to sit down at one of the long tables nearby the bookcase and accidentally bumped into it, causing a grating squeaking noise. A group of Ravenclaw Third Year girls had given him a collective look of judgement that would've made a basilisk terrified. So, of the two houses, he'd decided Hufflepuff seemed less intimidating.

A group of girls squealed at the sight of a large fish swimming across view from the aquarium before realizing that the school had not, in fact, put a life-sized merperson in a tank the size of a double decker bus. One of the Ravenclaw Third Years looked over her shoulder and sent him a withering glare as though the entire thing was his fault. It wasn't his fault that Hogwarts accepted "woo girls" as Theo had called them the day prior. He felt like telling them to go to the library if they wanted a perfectly quiet environment, or simply to fuck off. Instead he sent the girl his best scowl but rather than looking intimidated, she simply rolled her eyes and turned back to her work.*

Theo snorted next to him. "Seems you've lost all that Death Eater street cred, mate."

Draco glared at him.

Theo had joined him for the last six days. Irritatingly, he didn't really study, but he doodled and nonverbally flirted with some Hufflepuff Sixth Year. It had taken Draco until yesterday to realize that Theo made them sit wherever he had the best view of Gloria, or whatever her name was.

Draco grumbled internally and aggressively flipped through the History on Phineas Nigellus Black, trying to ignore the blissful playfulness of his tablemate.

"Hi!"

He looked up to find Granger standing in front of their table, clutching a large stack of books, smiling brightly. Ginny Weasley lurked behind her.

"Hi Hermione," said Theo, turning over his shoulder to wave.

Draco sent the two Gryffindors what he hoped was a friendly, casual smile.

Theo's pointed glare and eye roll told him he hadn't succeeded.

"Granger. Weasley," he said.

"Can we join you?" Granger asked, already sitting down and arranging her study materials.

Draco nodded.

Granger and Weasley chatted under their breaths about some Gryffindor House drama.

Theo started doodling on a new page.

Draco flipped to a new page.

 _Phineas was a snide, sarcastic fellow. He has little patience for the feelings and the problems of others, particularly young people, whom he found tedious and self-absorbed, and had no qualms whatsoever in using demeaning phrases when referring to others._ **

Draco quietly wondered why anyone would have let this person teach children.

Theo winked over Draco's shoulder.

Weasley cleared her throat. "This place is… Nice job, Malfoy."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her and nodded in reply.

Weasley turned back to the Quidditch magazine she was reading. She sighed heavily and flipped a page with some force.

Draco flipped towards the end of the History.

_As the House of Black was numerous and very powerful, many other wizards have ancestral ties to Phineas Nigellus Black, including the Malfoy, Lestrange, Tonks and Weasley families. Additionally, Phineas may have descendants or distant relatives in the Potter and Longbottom clans, as well as in the Crouch, Prewett and Burke families. Furthermore, many other familiar surnames appear among those who married into the Black family tree, which may tie Phineas with other wizarding families. **_

Weasley muttered under her breath. Something about incompetence and a waste of money.

Draco turned to the end of the booklet.

_Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black remains the premier leader of Great Britain's ancient academic institution. A steadfast Slytherin and pure blood, he governed the school and led his family with the tradition and dignity expected of his—_

Draco shut the History and closed his eyes. He really didn't think he could read another entry from some student blindly idolizing a bigoted, privileged, or cruel Slytherin icon.

There HAD to be at least one Slytherin he was related to who wasn't a complete shit.

Well, he knew of one. But he was really hoping to avoid that.

Just a few nights ago, he'd voiced this to Pansy who had pointed out that Snape had turned out to be on the Order's side. He had been grateful for this idea until a group of younger Slytherins in the Common Room had burst out into fits of giggles. They'd been making use of the Weasley products one had been given for Christmas. One boy put on a cap that turned him into a rabbit. Draco had snorted at the sight of the boy's ears growing until his teeth began to extend.

" _I see no difference."_ Draco heard Snape's cruel sneer in his head. He'd worked very hard to banish the sight of Granger trying – and failing – to hide absurdly long front incisors before bolting away.

Since then, he'd tried been very agitated indeed.

Weasley grumbled again.

"You know, some of us _are_ trying to work, Weasley," Draco said, glaring at her.

She glared back. "Well, seeing as you've slammed _your_ book shut, I assumed you were done. Plus, Moreau is reducing my will to live with every missed goal. It's not my fault if her incompetence interferes with your work." She tossed the magazine in front of her and crossed her arms, scowling at the publication.

Draco snorted. "Well, the Harpies should have known better than to recruit from the French. They're worthless."

"Don't you come from a long line of French nobility?" she shot back

"Raclure de bidet," Draco muttered under his breath.

She leaned forward. "Ta guile."

They stared at each other for a moment and Draco fought a smile.

"Excuse me! I just wondered if you've scheduled tryouts yet?" a miniscule Gryffindor appeared at their table, looking expectantly at Weasley who rolled her eyes.

"I told you," she said through gritted teeth. "It'll be posted on the bulletin."

The boy practically fled.

Draco snorted.

"The vultures have been descending ever since word got out that I'm the new Gryffindor Quidditch captain and we're in need of a Seeker," Weasley sighed. "Like I'd pick a scrawny first year."

"Potter was a scrawny first year," Draco quipped.

Weasley had a twinkle in her eye. "He still beat your ass up and down the pitch."

Draco couldn't help himself. He involuntarily let out a chuckle.

Eventually, Theo left to go actually verbally flirt with the Hufflepuff and Weasley left to go do god knew what.

Draco pretended to read his Arithmancy book. Granger hadn't looked up in what seemed like forever. She was reading from three differing books and scribbling in a spiral bound notebook with a muggle pen. She had ink stains on her hand from the pen.

Eventually, she groaned and checked her watch.

"Oh my goodness, the time has just flown by!" She said, looking up, almost surprised to see him still there.

He hummed noncommittally.

Granger stretched. "What are you working on?"

"Arithmancy," he said as he began to pack up his bag. He'd more than fulfilled his required time "setting an example" for the day.

"What's this?" she asked and pointed to the handbound History of Phineas Nigellus.

Draco sighed. "Remember the Histories Theo told you about?"

Granger nodded.

"I've been trying to find someone related… well, one that isn't..."

Granger studied and nodded, understanding his unspoken words. She reached out without asking permission. Her fingers brushed his hand as she yanked it out of his hand. "Not having any luck?" she asked.

He shook his head.

She flipped through it, brow furrowed. Finally she slid it back over to him. "Ah, yes. Phineas Nigellus. Accomplished but he's still rather unpleasant."

Draco snorted. "How would you know?"

"Oh! Well, his portrait hangs in Grimmauld Place. Sirius' house. And we sort of held it hostage while we were on the run last year. We tried to get information from him since he could travel to his portrait in the Headmaster's office. Snape would sort of send messages to us through him. Though we didn't know it. Because we thought he was a traitorous—" She stopped suddenly and blushed. "Sorry, I know you were close to him. I'd heard he was your godfather."

Draco tried to steel his face into a neutral expression. He was torn between the comical image of Granger trying to conceal a life-sized portrait in some shabby camp site and the sickening reminder of his conflicting feelings about Snape.

"Well, I'm sure Professor McGonagall would let you speak to his portrait. Harry would too, but you'd have to go into London for that."

"It's alright. I don't think he's quite what I'm looking for."

She furrowed her brows. "Yes, that's probably for the best. Harry said he doesn't hold students in particularly high regard anyway. I doubt he'd be very cooperative. Although, he was devasted about Siris' line ending when he died so he might more amenable—" Her eyes went wide, and she began to furiously rummage through her bag. Finally, she emerged clutching a faded and crumpled letter with a torn wax seal. "Aha! I know who you can use! Naturally, you wouldn't have thought of him. I don't know that it was ever really publicized. We, of course, told the Ministry everything but Skeeter chose to focus on the more _glamorous_ aspects of the journey in her coverage… But it really should have been included. He was quite brave, you know." She brandished the letter towards him as though this explained everything.

"Care to share who exactly you're talking about?"

She blushed. "Oh, sorry. I guess I was rambling. Regulus. Siris' brother."

His momentary optimism died. "Granger, Regulus was a Death Eater."

She smirked at him in an alarmingly Slytherin way. "That's what everyone thought. He betrayed Voldemort and stole one of his Horcruxes. He died trying to destroy it."

Draco tried to remember everything he'd been told about Regulus by his father and Bellatrix.

"Granger, he died on a mission for the Dark Lord. My father and… I was supposed to follow in his example. Two of the youngest… Well, yeah."

 _Two of the youngest Death Eaters to ever have served the Dark Lord._ That's what Bellatrix had told him. _He died tragically in service to the Dark Lord. If you're lucky, you'll follow in his footsteps._

He was jolted out of the memory by Granger placing her hand on his gently. "Draco, I promise you, Regulus had a change of heart. He gave his life to destroy a piece of Voldemort. Of course, that doesn't change anything he did prior to that point, but he did the right thing in the end." She removed her hand and the space where it had occupied felt cold and barren.

And she'd called him Draco.

He willed himself not to blush.

She fished something else out of her bag. It was a leather-bound journal. She placed the journal and the letter in front of him. "Harry found that journal of his over the break. We think the letter contains the code to read it. He asked me to try to break it, but maybe you can help. I'll ask Harry to bring creature with him when he visits us in Hogsmeade next month. He was so fond of Regulus and I'm sure he'd tell you all about him. It won't be fun to listen to. It's not all great. But he ended up on the right side. It might even make you proud." She smiled at him kindly.

"What creature?" he asked sharply, choosing the most innocuous part of her monologue to clutch onto.

She laughed. "K-R-E-A-C-H-E-R. He's the Black family house elf."

"Oh."

She screwed up her face in effort. "I think he actually said something about you once or twice. He did sort of get manipulated by Bellatrix into betraying Sirius Fifth Year. But since then, he's embraced Harry as his… master." She grimaced. "But you're related to the Blacks through your mother obviously. I think your parents are a bit older than Sirius and Regulus, but Kreacher says nice things about your mother from when she was young, so I'm sure he'd love to meet you. Like Phineas Nigellus, he's devastated 'the line died out.' He's not working in the kitchens anymore, now that Harry's gone back to Grimmauld Place. Otherwise, I'd say that we could go down there right now and talk to him."

He blinked at her. She was beaming at him as though she'd just figured out how to perfect self-spelling wands.

"Uh, thanks." He pulled the journal and letter towards him.

She pushed her chair out. "Well, I'd better be off. I promised Ron and Ginny I'd come watch them practice for a while. Bye, Draco, have a good night."

He nodded in response.

For a while, he stared across the room at the aquarium, lost in thought.

He was grateful for this information on Regulus and hopeful that what Granger had said was true. His only other option had been Andromeda. Unfortunately, there was very little public news on her, so it would have required an interview, which he'd been desperate to avoid. He knew Bellatrix was responsible for the death of her daughter and he hadn't fancied reminding her about her long-lost sisters, nor having to apologize for particularly cruel behavior towards her late son in law.

After complaining about this, Pansy had gotten annoyed and told him if he was so worried about it, he shouldn't even complete a History. In truth, he didn't really have a huge desire to do one. But it was tradition. Despite it all, he loved Slytherin. He'd always been excited to do so in his final year at Hogwarts. He'd miss Hogwarts when the year was over. In some ways, he felt more comfortable here than at his home. Participating in a time-honored tradition just felt like the right thing to do.

Plus, what else did he have to do?

As if in answer, a throat cleared next to him. He looked up. It was Henry Morales, Sixth Year and captain of Slytherin Quidditch team.

"Malfoy," he said.

Draco nodded in greeting.

"I don't know if you've heard, but Graham got kicked of the team for grades. McGonagall won't let him play until he improves. And our backup is absolute shit. So, I want you to come back and play Chaser. I know you play Seeker, but that's what we have open right now and you're the most experienced I can think of."

Draco raised an eyebrow. No one had invited him to so much as try out last semester.

"When are tryouts?"

Morales shook his head. "No tryouts. Our first match against Ravenclaw is in three weeks. We don't have time to hold tryouts. Practices are Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. You'll be there?"

Draco stared up at him.

If he was being honest, the idea of playing Quidditch again was exciting. He didn't mind Chaser. When he played over breaks with friends, they didn't usually have enough people to have Beaters or Seekers anyway, so he always played Chaser.

He'd been too miserable at the beginning of the year to be disappointed no one had wanted him back on the team. But if he could now….

"C'mon, Malfoy. We're second place in the standings right now and with Potter gone, we might have a chance at the cup." Morales thrust a notebook at him. "Here are the plays we've been practicing. Familiarize them before practice."

His hand, moving without permission, grabbed the playbook and he nodded.

"Great," said Morales. "See you on the pitch."

Draco watched Morales walk away and, for the first time in more than a year, allowed himself to remember what it felt like to fly high up above the stands, listening to the cheering of the crowd.

He tried not to wonder if Granger would consider rooting for him when Slytherin wasn't playing Gryffindor.

He laid awake that night, definitely not imagining her in the stands with green ribbon in her hair.

* * *

*** "13-year-old girls are the meanest people in the world. They terrify me to this day" – John Mulaney**

*** Phineas Nigellus excerpts from Harry Potter Wiki which is Pottermore**


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